Starting Over
by oh-the-irony-13
Summary: Erik has fled Paris for a small town in England. But can he let go of Christine and start over? Can he find a way to love again? Erik/OC. Rated T for mild swearing and drinking. DISCONTINUED.
1. Getting Away

**Hey people! This is my first fanfiction, so please be nice! And I am accepting all criticisms and suggestions. Just tell me what I'm doing wrong and I'll do my best to fix it. Now, without further ado, here is my very first fanfiction story!**

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><p>The moment he walked through the passage behind the mirror, Erik knew he had to get away. Far away. Away from <em>her.<em>

_"Christine,"_ He felt a new wave of tears coming, but he pushed them back. He couldn't cry now. He needed to make a plan. He reached the end of the tunnel, a dead end. He pushed on the ceiling and it opened up, revealing a grassy field. He could see a forest from here, and he could hear birds.

He knew there was a harbour a few towns over. _"Perfect." H_e thought to himself. He would wait for the mob to leave his lair, collect his things, walk to the next town and then stow away on the first ship he could. He would start over wherever it docked. He crawled out of the tunnel and took in his surroundings.

He could see the opera house blazing from here, destroying his home, his only safe haven. _"Not so safe now though." _He thought bitterly. He turned to watch the forest, waiting until the sun began to rise over the trees to return for his things.

When the first rays of dawn hit his face, he crawled back through the tunnel and into his lair. His heart nearly broke at the sight of it. His most prized pieces of art were gone, his boat destroyed, his organ smashed. They had even taken his music box. But his masks, every last one of them, remained untouched.

He grinned_. "Maybe they thought they were cursed."_ He packed them into a bag, along with some clothes, any food and money that was left, and his music. He left everything else behind and started the long trek through the tunnel again. When he surfaced, he walked down the forest and began his walk to the sea. He walked for days, never stopping and only eating or drinking when necessary. After three days, he came to a harbour. He walked down the boatyard to find a ship that would carry him away from Paris, and any memories of Christine.

He eventually settled on a freight ship called _Queen Anne's Salvation_. It was large and regal-looking, and would be perfect for a long journey. He snuck aboard by distracting the crew with a few well-thrown stones, and settled himself in the cargo hold. When he felt the ship begin to sway from the ocean, and the voices overhead began to shout, he knew the ship had cast off and was carrying him to an unknown land. Only then did he allow himself to cry.


	2. Beginning Anew

**Hey people! I'm back with chapter two! Thanks to SexyKnickers for being my first reviewer! Means a lot to me. Anyway, on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Phantom of the Opera, things would have gone a little differently during the swordfight scene.**

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><p>The trip seemed to last forever. The days and nights strung together for Erik as he lay alone in the cargo hold. He lived of the meagre amount of food he had left and whatever he could steal at night. And always, his thoughts were on Christine. His beautiful Christine. Finally, after what seemed like years to Erik, the boat docked. He found it hard not to spring to his feet and escape from the hellhole he'd been calling home, but he resisted, waiting until the men started to unload the cargo to make his escape. The sunlight was blinding after being in the dark all that time. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that they had docked in a small town. The harbour was nearly empty, and he could see a bar with a sign proclaiming it <em>The Seafarer. <em>A sign was up ahead, just beyond the beach, reading 'W_elcome to Baisly'. _Both signs were written in English. _"I must be somewhere in England."_ Erik thought to himself. _"Well, this makes things a lot easier. Now I won't have to learn a whole new language."_ He looked past the signs, and saw to the left was a small town. To the right he could see what looked like a ranch. Some sort of commotion was taking place. He could see people running and faintly hear their shouts. _"Maybe I could look for a new horse."_ He started walking right.

What Erik had thought was a commotion was actually chaos. No one noticed him as he slipped quietly into the crowed. They were all too preoccupied with the horse. It was a dangerous-looking beast, with a fiery red coat and eyes to match. His anger seemed to be directed at a young boy lying on the ground. The stable hands were trying to keep the horse from killing him, but their attempts seemed to do nothing but anger the beast more."Someone get Gredger!" Erik heard one of the stable hands shout.

Then he heard a female voice; "I'm already here." A girl was running towards the corral the horse was in, a bridle in her hand and a determined look on her face. Erik watched as she jumped the fence with ease, and ran in front of the horse. She raised her arms and yelled, "Whoa boy! Easy now!" The horse reared, but didn't strike. Suddenly, a hush fell over the ranch. Erik looked around. Every eye was on the girl and the horse. He could see her gently stroking the horse's nose, and he could almost hear her singing a low melody to the animal. The horse calmed completely, and allowed the girl to place the bridle on him and lead him out of the corral and past the barns. She returned a few moments later without the horse. She walked to the corral gate and yelled, "Alright! Who was the idiot this time?" The spell that seemed to have been cast on the ranch was broken with that yell, and everyone started into explanations.

"It was the Townly boy, miss. He was trying to ride Red."

"Again?" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "When will he ever learn? Let me talk to him. I'll make sure he stays off that horse." She stalked towards the boy, who was picking himself up off the ground. He let out a small squeak as the girl grabbed him by his shirt collar and lifted him into the air.

"Listen you. You got lucky this time. If I hadn't had shown up, that horse would have killed you. But I'm warning you, try something like that again and it wont be the horse that's out for blood. Got it?"

"Y...y...y...yes ma'am!" The boy stammered.

"Good" She dropped him and he scrambled to his feet. "Go home Townly, before you find some other way to get yourself maimed." The boy ran from the corral and towards the town. The girl began to grumble, "Stupid kid, how many times do I have to warn hi- oof!" She crashed right into Erik.

"Sorry sir, I wasn't watching where I was going." She shook herself and looked up at him. Erik had to admit, she wasn't bad-looking. She was tall and muscled, with reddish-brown hair tied up into a messy bun on top of her head, a tired, pretty face and sharp blue eyes. He smiled at her.

"It's ok. I was just lost in my own thoughts."

"Ok then. Can I help you with anything?"

"Well I was thinking about getting a new horse." She beamed at him.

"You've come to the right place! I'm Elsie Gredger, owner and manager of Angel Haven horse ranch." She held out her hand to him. Erik grasped her hand and shook it lightly.

"I'm Erik Destler, and I'm afraid I have no fancy title to go after my name." She laughed. Erik wondered if it was wise to give her his real name. But who else could he tell her he was? He wasn't the opera ghost anymore. She smiled and began to lead him towards the barns.

"Come on, I'm sure we have something here for you. In fact, I think we have the perfect horse for you." There were two large barns next to the corral, and Erik thought he could see a small building behind them.

They walked into one of the large barns. Horses whinnied at them from all sides. They stopped at the stall of a strong-looking black horse. Erik looked him over. He was an impressive horse, but he had an odd coat. It wasn't pure black, more splotchy black. It was as if some parts of his coat were darker than others. He looked up from inspecting his legs. "He's magnificent."

She smiled. "I know. It's a shame no one wants him."

"What?" Erik was stunned. "What do you mean no one wants him? He a beautiful horse."

"Yes, I know. But people don't really like his coat. Too splotchy. And then there's his face..." The horse chose that moment to turn around. Erik froze. The left side of the horses face was pure white. It was like a mask. Like_ his_ mask. Elsie grinned. "His name is Phantom." Erik froze again. Could it be just a coincidence?

"He's perfect."

"I knew you'd like him!" She jumped up and clapped. "You match." Erik's hand flew to his mask. Would she ask for an explanation?  
>"It's ok." She seemed to read his mind. "We all have things we'd rather hide." Elsie smiled at him again. Then she murmured under her breath, "Another match made in heaven."<p>

"What?" Erik asked, confused.

"Oh, around here, whenever someone decides to buy the first horse they see, we call it a match made in heaven."

Erik chuckled darkly and muttered, "More like a match made in hell."

"Excuse me?" Elsie stared at him suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing" He said, trying to remain inconspicuous. She glared at him for a moment, then turned back to the horse.

"So, you'll have to wait a few days while we dig up the paperwork, get you the basic supplies, all that stuff. Where are you staying?" Erik frowned.

"I'm not staying anywhere. I only just arrived."

"Oh." Elsie's face fell. "Well, we can't just give you Phantom to have him be homeless. You'll need to find a place to say before we give you the horse. If you can't, well," She shifted slightly, before smiling again. "I'm sure you'll find something."

"Thank you." Erik said. "I'll be sure to find a place." The pair walked out of the barn. Erik was surprised to find that the sun was already starting to set. He said goodbye to Elsie, and headed for the cover of the trees.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

It was dark. Erik had spent the day hidden in the forest nearby. He had been looking for a cabin, or somewhere remote he could stay, but he hadn't found anything. Now it was nightfall and he needed sleep. He curled up underneath a tree, his cape wrapped around him to protect him from the chill of the night. It seemed he was only asleep for a few minutes when he felt something digging into his side. He shot up, and nearly crashed into Elsie.

"Watch it!" She yelled. He pulled himself up and glared at her. She simply stared at him. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Erik asked accusingly. Elsie scoffed.

"I was looking for a lost colt." She said. And sure enough, she was leading a sheepish looking colt by a rope around his neck. "Third time this month he's escaped, little con artist. And you're avoiding my question. What are you doing here?"

Erik stared at the ground. "I couldn't find a place to stay." Her face softened immediately.

"Come on. Get your things. You're coming to stay with me."

"What?" Erik stared at her in disbelief.

"You heard me. Now get up. We have a bit of a walk." They started toward what Erik assumed was the ranch. It turned out Erik had picked a tree not far from the ranch. They simply had to walk down a hill to reach it. Elsie put the colt in one of the barns, and they continued past the barns to a small house. Erik could see a stable nearby where the wild red horse was tethered. They walked past him and into the house.

It was a nice little house, with a small kitchen with a small wooden table nearby. The sitting room was next to it, a cozy room with two sofas', a comfy-looking armchair and an old piano near the wall. A staircase beside the piano led up to what could only be where Elsie's bedroom was. Elsie walked past him and tossed her coat onto the table.

"The bathroom is up the stairs, first door on the left. You can take the couch. There are blankets in the chest by the chair. If you need anything, feel free to help yourself. I'll be upstairs, second door on the right." She started up the stairs

"Elsie wait!"

"Yes?" Erik panicked. He hadn't meant to stop her. He had panicked. He just didn't want to be alone. He had been alone for so long, it had been nice to have someone around who didn't think of him as a monster.

"Thank you."

Her face softened and she gave him a small smile. "You're welcome Erik." She said happily, and continued her way up the stairs. Erik grabbed one of the blankets and curled up on the longer of the two sofas'. He smiled slightly. Maybe a new town wouldn't be so bad. He was still smiling as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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><p><strong>Me: Soooooooo?<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: You made me into a gentlemanly wuss.****  
><strong>**Me: Well, that's the Erik I needed you to be! You're starting over. You can't go around punjabbing people all the time!****  
><strong>**Erik: Wanna bet? (Pulls out Punjab lasso)****  
><strong>**Me: EEEEKK! (I run for my life with Erik on my heels.)****  
><strong>**Elsie: *Sigh* Looks like its up to me to finish the authors note. Don't forget to review! And flames will be used to roast marshmallows!****  
><strong>***CRASH!*****  
><strong>**Elsie: What the...?****  
><strong>**Erik: AAAIIIIIIEEEE!****  
><strong>**Me: (Riding a buffalo and holding a paintball gun) MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!****  
><strong>**Elsie: Where did she get a buffalo? Oh well. Review while I save Erik from a buffalo-and-paintball-gun-induced death!****  
><strong>**Me: NOOOOO! SAVE MEEEEE!****  
><strong>**Erik: (Riding a hippopotamus and swinging a flame sword) OH YOU BETTER RUN NOW!****  
><strong>**Elsie: Now where the hell did he get a hippopotamus? **


	3. Questions and Answers

**Me:*Comes in with crutches, streamers on my arms and singed clothes*****  
><strong>Erik:*Comes in with a broken arm, green hair and a pink-spotted cape*<strong>  
><strong>Elsie:*Comes in with a bald streak on her head, a Punjab lasso around her ankle and a fish-shaped bruise on her cheek* Ok, where did you find a flying sphinx with laser eyes?<strong>  
><strong>Me: Somewhere.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: And Erik, where did you find a magical bouncing walrus that sings Willy Wonka songs and plays croquet?<strong>  
><strong>Erik: I had it lying around.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: What occasion would call for you to have <em>that<em> lying around?**  
><strong>Me: Well, obviously this one.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie:*Groans* Oh well. Let's just get on with the story and let the readers wonder what the hell happened.<strong>  
><strong>Me: Sounds good to me.<strong>  
><strong>Erik:*Ahem*<strong>  
><strong>Me: What?<strong>  
><strong>Erik: Aren't you forgetting something?<strong>  
><strong>Me: Oh, right.<strong>**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. That happy right only goes to Andrew Lloyd Webber. I only own Elsie, the town of Baisly, and any other OC's you encounter in this story.**

**Me: Happy?****  
><strong>Erik: Quite.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: You don't own me.<strong>**

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><p>Dawn came much too soon for Erik's liking. Of course, it didn't help that it came with a very loud wake-up call from Elsie.<p>

"UP AND AT 'EM ERIK!" She had practically screamed in his ear. She then yanked the blanket off of him, sending him crashing to the floor.

"What was that for?" He grumbled, rubbing his head. But Elsie had already run off to the kitchen. He followed her in, and before he could say a word she held up her hand to silence him.

"You need to go take a bath. You smell like a bilge rat." He opened his mouth, to agree or protest he didn't know, but Elsie silenced him again. "Go. Upstairs. I'll bring you some fresh clothes when you're done. I've already finished washing your things, but if you want I can clean up your current outfit tomorrow." Erik gaped at her.

"You went through my bag? And washed my clothes?" Erik yelled, and then realized all she had done and added with confusion, "How long have you been up?" Elsie smiled.

"Well, I kind of had too. It was stinking up my living room. And seeing as it's almost seven, I've been up for about two hours. Why do you ask?" Erik sighed.

"No reason."

"Well then, hurry up and go get clean. I need to go turn out the horses soon, and like it or not your coming with me."

"Why?"

"I'm not leaving a total stranger alone in my house."

"You left me alone last night. You were in your room the entire time."

"Well, you weren't really alone inn my house. I was upstairs. Now quit trying to reason with me and go. You have ten minutes. I've already got the water ready for you" Erik sighed again and trudged towards the stairs.

Erik would never admit it to Elsie, but the bath did seem to help wake him up. He got dressed in the clothes Elsie had brought up for him and headed down to the kitchen. Elsie looked up at him as he entered the room.

"I have some toast on the table for you. Eat up and then we'll head out." Erik scowled. Elsie looked at the look on his face and groaned. "What is it now?"

"I'm not going out there." He said with a growl. Elsie looked confused for a moment, then a flash of realization showed on her face and she smiled warmly

"You're worried people will stare at your mask." Erik looked at the floor. He knew when he was caught.

"Yes. I am." He looked at Elsie, and saw she was grinning.

"Let me tell you something Erik." She said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Baisly is an odd town. We get so many odd characters around here, people wouldn't look twice at you if you walked down the street in a tutu. No one will notice, no one will ask, and no one will care if you wear a mask."

"Really?" He asked hopefully.

"Well, they might notice the white ones, but I know you have a black one and no one would look twice at that. As long as you don't act crazy like that homeless man by the flower shop who thinks he's king of the bumblebees, you'll go unnoticed." Erik gave a small laugh.

"Ok then. I'll get the black one." He switched masks and they headed outside. Elsie immediately ran to the small stable they had passed the night before. Erik followed, and caught up to her as she was leading the red horse out. Erik could see a sign on the stable that read _'Red Fury'_.

He looked at the horse, then back to the sign and said, "You named that horse Red Fury?" Elsie chuckled.

"Yup. Suits him, don't you think? And he's my horse."

"Your horse?" Erik asked. He could hardly believe it. How could anyone ride that horse?

"Of course." Elsie said incredulously. "Who else did you think it belonged to?" They walked down to the corral, where Elsie let the horse loose then went to the barn, where the other stable hand had arrived and were leading more horses to the field behind the corral.

"Hi Elsie!" One of the stable hand shouted and he pulled a particularly stubborn mare from her stall. "Who's your friend?"

"Hello John." Elsie smiled as she pulled another horse from its stall. "This is Erik. He's staying on my couch until he finds a place to live."

"So's my husband. Cheatin' bastard." A woman coming into the barn grumbled. Laughter echoed around the barn as the stable hands slipped into comfortable conversation. Erik grabbed one of the mares and led her out to the field, following closely behind Elsie. They were done the task in no time, and soon the stable hands were running about, cleaning the barns and filling the mangers with food. Erik found Elsie leaning against the corral fence, watching her horse run around the enclosure. He walked up to her and leaned against the fence next to her.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked her. She looked up and smirked at him.

"Well obviously, you just did. but you can ask another question if you'd like." He laughed, then took a breath.

"Why did you let me stay with you? You barely know who I am!" Elsie smiled.

"Because you needed a place to stay. I was a street person once myself. I remember how awful it was and I couldn't let someone nice enough to call Phantom 'perfect' live like that. Plus, I could never in good conscience turn away a person in need. I wasn't raised that way." Erik couldn't help but smile, until she added "Ok, now I get to ask you a question."

"No." He stated plainly. They were not going to delve into his past. Elsie pouted.

"I was just going to ask if you were French. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Erik said grudgingly,

"Yes, I am French."

Elsie smirked triumphantly. "Knew it. Your accent gave you away." She turned back to the corral, where the red horse was grazing contentedly.

"Why do you keep him out here, and not in the field with the other horses?" Erik asked.

Elsie turned to him and said "I can't trust him around others. Too much of a temper. He's also one of our most beautiful stallions, so he sets a good example for our ranch if he's the first thing people see."

"Unless they meet him when he's about to kill a fourteen-year-old."

Elsie laughed. "Good point." She said. "My turn to ask you a question. Um, why did you come to England?"

Erik's face darkened. "Too many memories." He said morosely. Elsie nodded. Erik was glad she didn't pry further. She was better off not knowing. "My turn. Why did you pick that horse?"

Elsie gave him an odd look. "Why all the horse questions?"

"Why all the past questions?"

"Touché." She said, smirking. "Ok then. Do you remember what I told you about matches made in heaven we have with the horses?"

"Yes."

"Well, he was mine. It all started a few years ago..."

(Flashback)

_It was a warm summer's day. Elsie Gredger, the new owner of Angel Haven, was out riding with a few of the stable hands. They had only been riding for a few hours when they came across them. Elsie couldn't believe her eyes. It was a herd of horses. _

_"My god." The stable hand to her left, John, said in awe. "Wild horses."_

__"I didn't think there were any left in England." Elsie breathed.__

__"Well obviously there is." John said, his eyes never leaving the horses. One of the riders, a young lad named Bill, slid off his horse with a bridle in his hand. __

__"What are you doing?" A woman named Jessa hissed. Suddenly, one of the wild mares twitched, her eyes widened and she jolted. __

__"Look out!" Elsie yelled. The horse reared and attacked Bill. His body crumpled with the first blow and the horse reared again. "Shoot it!" Elsie heard the words tear from her throat. She saw John raise his gun, she heard the echoing 'CRACK', and saw the horse fall to the ground with a thud. The wild herd scattered, the other horses reared and tried to run. There was panic everywhere. And in the middle of it all was a tiny colt, nudging the dead mare with his nose, trying to make her wake up...__

(End flashback)

"Well, we took him back to the ranch with us. Skittish little thing he was. And when we started to train him he wouldn't let anyone near him. One day, out of the blue, I remembered a song my mom used to sing to me when I was in a rage. I had nothing to lose, so I sang it to him, and he calmed down. I was shocked. We thought we had found a solution, but he would only do it for me. We've had horse whisperers and breeders and doctors come try to calm him, but he would only let me near him. I knew I could never sell him. Not only was I the only one he trusted, but I owed him. I was the one who ordered his mother shot. I was the one who left him an orphan. So I adopted him and named him Red Fury because of his temper. We all call him Red for short though." Elsie finished her tale. Erik could only stare.

"Wow." He breathed. "That's quite a story."

"I know." She said. "But it's my turn to ask a question. How did you get here?"

Erik shrugged. "Walked from Paris and stowed away on the first ship I found. Not much of a story there."

Elsie let out a low whistle. "Still. You didn't get caught. That's impressive."

"I guess you could say that." Erik laughed a bit.

"Well, I better get back to work." Elsie pushed back from the fence. "You can go back to the house if you want."

"Thanks" Erik said as she walked off. He started back towards the house, but instead ducked into the barn that still had horses in it and found the one with the splotchy black coat and the white spot on his face. He tacked him up and led him outside. He pulled himself onto the horse and snapped the reins. They rode off into the woods, Erik still thinking hard about everything Elsie had told him.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

Erik returned when he realized that the sun was setting. He placed Phantom back in his stall and went looking for Elsie. He couldn't explain it, but he felt calmer around the girl. She made him feel normal. Almost,_ human._ Around her, he wasn't the terrifying Phantom of the Opera. He was Erik. It didn't take long for him to find her, for she came riding by on Red a few moments later.

When she saw him she leaped off her horse and shouted at him. "Where were you? I thought you'd run off with that horse! Don't you ever do something like that again or I'll make you wish you'd run away!" Erik smiled. Yes, she definitely made him feel normal.

"Relax. I only went for a ride. I came back."

Elsie glowered at him. "Just tell me next time."

"Agreed." Erik said with a smirk. Elsie looked as though it had been her, not the horse, who'd run miles looking for him. Her hair was falling out of its bun, her face was flushed and angry, her chest was heaving with laboured breath, and her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Oi! Elsie!" It was John, the stable hand. "We're going to meet the opera rats at the _Rat's Nest_. You coming?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Elsie called back, her face returning to its normal colour. She turned to Erik. "Want to come?"

"What?" Erik was very confused. Opera rats? Rat's nest? What was that boy talking about?

"Oh right, you wouldn't know. The _Rat's Nest_ is the pub in town. We sometimes meet the performers from the opera house there."

"Opera house?" Erik felt a slight panic rise in him. "Why is there an opera house in the middle of nowhere?"

Elsie chuckled. "You'd be surprised how many people from out of town come to the shows. We're never without a full house. It's making our little town grow. So are you coming?"

"No." He couldn't. He couldn't let those memories rise back up.

"Ok then. I'll be back around ten. Be good while I'm gone." She walked away in the direction of the town, leaving Erik to head back to the house. He stumbled inside, lay his head down on the table and cried. Memories flashed before his eyes. The opera house, Madame Giry, his lair, the fire,_ Christine_. He sobbed as memories of _her_ flew before him, each more painful than the last. It was hopeless. No matter how normal Elsie made him feel, he could never get over Christine. He could never start over.

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><p><strong>Me: *Back to normal* So what did you think of this chapter, Erik?<br>Erik: *Also back to normal* Your author's note is too long.** **And I cry too much.  
>Me: Too bad.<br>Elsie: *Once again, back to normal* Guys, can you stop fighting? I have a headache.  
>Erik: Why?<br>Me: Because of you.  
>Erik: No, it's probably your fault.<br>Me: No, it's your fault!  
>Erik: No, yours!<br>Me: Yours!  
>Elsie:*Starts pounding head against the wall.*<br>Erik: Oh, that's why. Let's just say goodbye to the readers. *Clears throat* Don't forget to review! Because reviews keep the bouncing walrus alive and well!  
>Me: NOOOO! That thing can't be kept alive! It's out to get me!<br>Erik: So you don't want reviews?  
>Me: Yes I want reviews.<br>Erik: Then you put up with the walrus.  
>Me: One of these days Erik, one of these days...<strong>


	4. The Past Comes to Light

**Me: Hey people! Sorry this chapter took so long, but my computer hates me and was dead-set on not letting me finish this chapter.****  
><strong>Erik: A lot of inanimate objects hate her!<strong>  
><strong>Me: I swear, the frying pan is working with the walrus to try and kill me.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: Let's not take up too much of the reader's time today, ok?<strong>  
><strong>Me: Ok, ok, just let me get the apologies out of the way. *Ahem* I'm sorry the chapters are short, I'm sorry the author's notes are long, and I'm sorry I apologise too much. That it?<strong>  
><strong>Erik: I think that covers everything.<strong>  
><strong>Me: Oh, and sorry if it sucks. I wrote this while listening to Prima Donna CHIPMUNK VERSION!<strong>  
><strong>Erik: What? Carlotta on helium? Why would you torture your ears like that?<strong>  
><strong>Me: I like her!<strong>  
><strong>Erik: You're insane.<strong>  
><strong>Me: I know ^.^<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: Just hurry up with the disclaimer before the author's note is longer than the story!<strong>  
><strong>Me: Ok.<strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer: If I owned Phantom of the Opera, I wouldn't be sitting here writing phanfiction now, would I?<strong>**

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><p>Elsie came back to find Erik asleep with his head on the table. She sighed and shook his shoulders. He awoke with a start and glared at her with red-rimmed eyes. <em>'He's been crying.' S<em>he thought. _'But what about?'_

"No need to stare me down!" She said, throwing her hands in the air in surrender. She headed for the kitchen, took out two glasses and a bottle of gin, and sat down opposite Erik. She poured the drinks and passed one to Erik, who was giving her an odd look. She raised her glass slightly.

"To memories we'd rather forget?" She half-asked, half-said. Erik gave a small smile and raised his glass.

"Agreed." He said and downed his drink. Elsie merely sipped hers, then pulled out a pack of playing cards. She began shuffling them, the cards flying between her hands and she shuffled, looking as if she'd been doing this all her life. She laid out three cards and pushed them toward Erik. She raised them up, one at a time, revealing a three of clubs, a king of hearts, and an eight of diamonds. Then she began flipping them over each other, making it so Erik couldn't even tell where the cards had started.

When she was done, she looked up at him and said, "Find the king?" Erik looked over the cards and picked the one on the right. It was the three. "Tough luck." She said, lifting the middle card and showing the king. She smiled at the card. "The king of hearts is my favourite card." She said softly.

"Why?" Erik asked.

"Because it's so interesting! Look." She pushed the card into his hands. "No matter what deck of cards you look at, the king of hearts is always sticking the sword through his head. It's known as the suicide king." Erik looked, and sure enough, the king had his sword sticking out the side of his head. Elsie took back the card, stuffed into the deck and began flipping the cards between her fingers with a fluid motion. Erik watched with astounded eyes.

"Wow." He breathed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Elsie looked up from her shuffling. "My father was a circus magician. His speciality was card tricks. He taught me everything he knew."

Erik froze at the word 'circus'. "A circus magician? You were part of a circus?"

Elsie shrugged. "I guess. I was never an act, I just helped out. My parents were acts though. My mum was a fortune teller. I grew up with the cards, but it was Papa's tricks that stuck to me. The circus life is fun, (Erik scoffed under his breath at this.) but it couldn't be forever. When I turned eighteen, my parents gave me everything they could afford to and I ran for it. Lucky for me, we were stopped in Baisly at the time." Elsie put down her cards and took another sip from her drink.

"I made a living doing card trick in the street for a while. Then one day, a man came up to me and offered me a huge amount of money to perform at his party. There was no way I could refuse. Well, it turns out that man was Randall Higgins, the original owner of Angel Haven. By the end of the night, I had a job at the stables; don't ask me how, I'm still trying to figure it out myself. I worked there for about five or so years, then when Higgins retired I had saved enough to buy the stables. And the rest, as they say, is history." She smiled, rather sadly. "I'm now twenty-nine years old, still unmarried, and running a prosperous horse ranch." She picked up her drink again and stared at Erik over the rim. "So, are you going to tell me why I found you passed out at my kitchen table looking as though the world chewed you up and spit you out again?"

Under her warm gaze, Erik felt his resolve break. Everything came pouring out. The travelling circus, Madame Giry, the opera house, the murders, _Christine_. He poured his soul out to the near-stranger sitting across from him. When he finished his tale, Elsie walked over to him, held his hand and knelt beside him.

"I understand."

Erik felt his temper rise. "Understand? How could you understand? I have deceived, blackmailed, threatened, even killed to get what I want, only to have the only thing I will ever love leave me fop! How could you understand?" He shook her shoulders as he finished his rant. Elsie still looked cool and composed when she answered.

"I understand because I can see why you did what you did. All your life, you've been hated for your face. You were put on display as a monster, beaten, tortured, and somewhere along the way lost faith that anyone would ever love you. So when someone began to show you a shred of kindness, you grasped it and held on like it was a lifeline, because it _was_ a lifeline. And when you felt that lifeline beginning to slip away, you resorted to desperate measures to keep it close, and ended up losing it forever. You have been filled with hate and pain, and you've never had a way to let it out. You've never had some one to hear your pain. No one to listen. Not a friend in the world."

Erik felt tears flowing down his face. She was right. In every way possible, she was right. But she wasn't done.

"Until now. Let me be your friend Erik. You can talk to me. I will listen, I will help and I will never fear you. You can count on that." Elsie pulled him to his feet and her hands found his face. He could feel her fingernails slip beneath the edges of his mask. She looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"May I… see you face, Erik? Please?"

Erik almost growled his answer. "You will not like what you see."

Elsie gave a smile that was almost a grimace. "I have seen men get their faces trampled in by crazed horses. I think I can handle it."

Erik thought a moment before answering. "Fine." And Elsie pulled the mask from his face.

Erik recoiled a bit as the mask first left his face. Elsie let out a small gasp of shock, but recovered and gingerly placed her hands on his face, running her fingers across every bump and pull of his skin. Her hands were nothing like Christine's. Christine's hands were soft and petal-smooth, whereas Elsie's were rough, calloused working hands. But they still held a gentleness that made Erik let out an involuntary sigh and they danced across his face.

Elsie smiled as she saw Erik's look of peace. She gripped his shoulders and Erik looked down at her. She had a look of happiness and sadness at the same time on her face as she spoke.

"This is not the face of a killer. This is the face of someone who was driven to kill, and there is a difference."

Erik felt red hot tears prick his eyes, and knew they weren't from sadness. Elsie's arms dropped back down to her sides, and she went to refill her drink.

"I don't know about you," She said as she took a swig from her glass, "but I could certainly use a pick-me-up. What do you say?" She asked, holding Erik's now-full glass to him. Erik took it and took a swig from his as well.

"I couldn't agree more." He said as Elsie refilled their glasses for the third time that night. Erik raised his glass.

"To memories we'll never forget."

Elsie grinned slightly as she raised hers. "Agreed." She said as she downed her drink.

* * *

><p><strong>Me: So what did you guy think?<strong>**  
><strong>Elsie: I liked it!<strong>  
><strong>Erik: Well... it was okay, I guess.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: Geez, I hope you're not so moody during the masquerade.<strong>  
><strong>Me: Oh, right! That reminds me! Me, Erik and Elsie are going to a masquerade ball hosted by Songbird of Night in her story, 'More Tales of Phantom Hysterics!'<strong>  
><strong>Erik: I'm being forced against my will.<strong>  
><strong>Me: Lighten up, will you?<strong>  
><strong>Erik: Oh, the irony.<strong>  
><strong>Me: Ha Ha. Just go sit in the corner while me and Elsie finish this up.<strong>  
><strong>Erik: Fine.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: Ok then! Go check out Songbird of Night's story. The deadline is June 25, so PM <span>her<span> if you want to go!**  
><strong>Me: And thanks again to SexyKnickers, my 'only' reviewer so far.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie Hint, hint.<strong>  
><strong>Me: We writers live on reviews, so if you want to see this done, review, review, REVIEW!<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: Or no more story and no more ridiculously long author's notes!<strong>  
><strong>Erik: Can I come out of the corner now?<strong>  
><strong>Me: NO!<strong>**


	5. A New Home

**Me: Hey people! We're back!****  
><strong>**Erik: Oh joy.**  
><strong>Me: Downer. Anyway, I cannot say how thankful I am to you guys! To everyone who read the story, and a special thanks to InuyashaFanGirl555, RoseTheHorrorLover, SexyKnickers (a very special thanks to her. she's reviewed every chapter!) and MelodyHightoppTodd! You keep this story going!<strong>**  
><strong>**Elsie: You rock!****  
><strong>**Erik: Ok, they are pretty awesome, but can we get back to the reason they're here in the first place?****  
><strong>**Me: Sure.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. Or Erik. All I own is this laptop, this plot and a Snuggie. (Not kidding, those things are AWESOME!)**

* * *

><p>Erik awoke with a pounding in his head. He groaned as he attempted to sit up, but ended up falling ungracefully on to his rear. His head hit the couch behind him, and it began to throb with pain.<em> 'What did I do last night?'<em>

"Oh, nothing a shot of whisky and a dunkin' in the rain barrel won't fix."

Elsie was leaning against the doorframe, a glass of whiskey in her hand and a smirk on her face. She walked to his side and pushed the glass into his hands. "Drink. It'll help the headache." Erik was still trying to make sense of his surroundings as he drank.

"Did I say that out loud?"

Elsie laughed, "Yup. And can I just say, you are a hilarious drunk."

Erik groaned into his hands. "What did I do?"

Elsie laughed again as she spoke, "Well, I can't remember too much, but I do remember you attempted to attack my stove, cried a lot, and ran around in circles with your cape on screaming that you sold the music of the night to a colony of vampires and they wouldn't give it back. I think I attempted to dance a jig, but that's beside the point. You are one of the funniest drunk recollections I have, and considering my track record, that's saying something." She laughed again as Erik moaned embarrassedly from his hands. "Get cleaned up. We're heading out."

"Why?"

She grinned secretively. "I have to show you something."

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

"Where are we going again?" Erik asked as the small town came into view. The sun was just beginning to rise over the rooftops, and a cool summer breeze was blowing over his shoulder, making his cape billow. Elsie turned around in her saddle and glared at him.

"I didn't say. Stop trying to get me to tell you. It's a surprise." They were riding to town, Erik riding Phantom for the first time, and he still had yet to pry their destination from her. He was getting more frustrated by the second.

"I hate surprises." He growled under his breath, remembering the surprises of his past and not finding many fond memories.

"Well, you'll like this one." Elsie said, turning back around and snapping the reins. The horse began to gallop towards town, Erik following close behind. They stopped outside what was easily the largest building in town. Elsie leaped off her horse, and threw her arm out towards the building behind her. "Well, this is it."

Erik froze. The building was impressive, painted a deep brown with a great domed roof. Statues of winged horses adorned any flat surface. There was a figurehead of a bird above the door, and in its claws was a banner that proclaimed the building, _The Songbird Opera._ It was an opera house.

"Why did you bring me here?" Erik asked, fuming. He thought she understood, thought that she cared. Yet she had brought him to an opera house, of all places. Elsie merely smiled at his anger.

"Because this isn't the _Opera Populairé._ And there is no Christine here." She said, once again displaying her unnerving talent for reading his mind. "You only know how to be an opera ghost, so I got you a new place to haunt. You can't stay on my couch forever, but you can say here. Come on, I'll show you." She had been tying the horses to a hitching post while she spoke, but with those words she had grabbed his hand and pulled him around the side of the opera house.

Erik honestly thought Elsie had lost her mind when she began counting stones in the wall. But her insanity paid off when she pushed hard on the seventeenth stone, and a section of the wall swung forward to reveal a great stone corridor. She smirked at Erik's dropped jaw, "Shut you're mouth before you start catching flies. I'll explain inside." and she pulled him in.

They were plunged into darkness the moment the door shut. He could only faintly see Elsie's outline just ahead of him. The only sounds were their footsteps echoing around the walls, and Elsie's voice as she launched into explanations.

"This is the passage down to the old opera house. I think there are more inside, but this one was closest. You see, long ago, when the opera house was first built, there was a flood. The opera house was washed away, leaving just the basement and catacombs, hidden under layers of mud and anything else that flood picked up. A new opera house was built right over the old one, and some of the builders uncovered the old basement. Instead of telling anyone, they built these passages and built more into the new opera house. I think it was so they could spy on the dancers. They never told anyone what they had done, and the secret was well kept for years. Then one day, a ballerina accidentally fell through one of the passages. She shot out of there as fast as she could, but others came down to explore. They didn't get far. They heard some screeching and got the hell out of there as fast as they could. They thought it was the ghost of the lead tenor, who died in the flood. I've only been here once, when I leaned against the wall in a storm, but I saw bats then so I think that's what they heard. Anyway," She took a breath and Erik noticed they had reached a dead end. Elsie pressed on one of the stones and the wall opened up, revealing a large square room with a spiral staircase disappearing down a hole in the centre. He peered down it, but couldn't see anything. Elsie continued her speech.

"This place is ideal. No one knows its here, and you'd never be seen. You could even steal the story of the dead tenor and pretend to be a ghost!" She noticed Erik examining the staircase. She walked up beside him and looked down the hole. "That leads down to where the gears used to move sets are. The new ones are under the stage. Come on, I'll show you." They began to descend the dark staircase, straining their eyes so as not to trip. It was with great relief that they reached the bottom in one piece. Erik could hear the squeaking of bats, and could faintly see the outline of gears. Elsie walked towards them and knelt on the floor just in front of them. She tugged at something on the floor, and it opened up. Erik practically ran to her side. He could see a rope descending into the darkness. Beside him, Elsie began speaking again.

"This leads down into the catacombs of the old opera house. It's full of water from the flood, but I'm sure it would be perfect for an opera ghost." Erik could practically hear her smile.

"Its wonderful." He said, looking around the dark room.

Elsie laughed. "It's a bit dark. You might want to consider redecorating, and maybe getting some candles. But you and Phantom could live down here and no one would bother you. You could find new passageways and pretty much run the opera house. The stories will help if you decide to become the opera ghost again." Elsie rose and began walking toward the stairs. "I've got to get back to my horses, but don't forget to invite me back when you can see. Bye Erik." She waved and began her slow assent.

It wasn't until after she was out of sight that Erik began to think about refurnishing the dark and dreary rooms into a place he could call home. The possibilities were endless. _'Hmm, maybe some red curtains...'_

* * *

><p><strong>Erik: That's it? That's not fair! I barely said anything!<strong>**  
><strong>**Me: Suck it up. Just be grateful I didn't make you break your neck going down those stairs.****  
><strong>**Erik: Humph. I'm going to go redecorate my opera house. *stalks off.*****  
><strong>**Elsie: Speaking of redecorating, don't we have some remodelling to do?****  
><strong>**Me: Oh, right! I looked back on my past chapters, and the spacing was horrendous. So me and Elsie are gonna go back and try to fix it!****  
><strong>**Elsie: And some spelling.****  
><strong>**Me: But no plot changes, so don't worry about reading it all over again! We'll be back with a new chapter and some better spacing in no time!****  
><strong>**Elsie: See you then!**


	6. The Opera Ghost Returns

**Me: Hey people! We're back!****  
><strong>**Erik: Unfortunately****  
><strong>**Elsie: Wow, SOMEONE woke up on the wrong side of the swan bed.****  
><strong>**Erik: Go jump off a cliff.****  
><strong>**Elsie: *Sarcasm* Aww, I love you too Erik.****  
><strong>**Me: Guys, shut up. We're celebrating today!****  
><strong>**Erik: Why?****  
><strong>**Me: THIS IS THE LONGEST CHAPTER I'VE EVER WRITTEN! SERIOUS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION HERE!****  
><strong>***Me and Elsie have a major dance party while Erik sits in a corner sulking*****  
><strong>**Erik: Big whoop.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Never mind. He's just gonna be a big grump all day. Anyway, a big thanks to SexyKnickers and littlemsstrawberry for reviewing!****  
><strong>**Me: You guys make our day! And in response to your review SexyKnickers, no, Erik will not fall for another singer. But this is a romance story, so he will fall in love with someone! Take a wild guess who!****  
><strong>**Elsie: Why do I have a bad feeling about this?****  
><strong>**Erik: Join the club.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Phantom of the Opera... well... it's all been said before but _something_ would have been different!**

* * *

><p>It had been six months. Six months since Erik had arrived in Baisly. Six months since he had met Elsie and had told her his story. Six months since she had brought him to the opera house to live.<p>

And she hadn't heard a single word from the masked man since.

_"Damn you Erik."_ She thought, running her fingers through her hair and she walked through the opera house's grand doors. _"Where the hell did you go?"_

It was nearly Christmas, and the town was abuzz with preparations for the big day. Elsie had done all of her shopping back in November, so she was spared the hustle and bustle of last minute shopping. But her mind was still weighed down with thoughts of Erik.

She had tried to go see him a few weeks after she had left him in the dark, but the entrance to the tunnel had been blocked. She had shoved against the wall with all her strength, but it refused to be budged. Elsie was certain Erik had sealed it shut. There was no way a door that had opened so easily when her sickly body leaned against it the first time would hold fast against the muscle she had gained from working with horses. Erik was keeping her out.

She hadn't worried at first, but as summer turned to fall her mind turned to the worst. _"What if he's fallen and broken his neck? What if he's hurt and couldn't go for help?"_ These thought flew through her head as the months went on. Now it was December, and there was still no word from her friend.

"Alright people, settle down." A man at the front said, snapping Elsie from her thoughts. She had been called to the opera house by the managers, and had been directed backstage to a meeting. She turned her head towards the two men at the front.

"Please people, quiet!" The taller of the two said. He nodded to the man on his right, and the short man began to speak again.

"Thank you Ronnette. I have an announcement to make!" The man speaking was Mr. Andrews, one of the managers. The man to his left was Monsieur Ronnette, the other manager. Ronnette loved the arts with a passion, and Andrews had a head for business. Together they kept the opera house running smoothly.

"I think that's a bit obvious." A person standing on the rafters yelled, and the room rippled with laughter. Andrews grinned and gave a small chuckle.

"Yes William, it is obvious. Actually, I have two announcements. One; the next opera we shall be performing is _'The White Rider'_!" The entire opera company burst into applause. _'The White Rider'_ was an opera written by a young composer in London. It was very difficult to perform, because of all the scenes in which horses did a lot of the acting. If they could pull it off, they would be famous.

"I'm guessing that's why I'm here?" Elsie called from her place near the back. Andrews searched her out and smiled.

"Why yes Elsie. We were hoping that you would train the horses for the opera."

Elsie grinned. "Sir, if this opera falls to shambles, and our reputation is ruined, you can bet people will look back on it and say, 'well, the horses were quite nice.'" She put on a posh accent and the group laughed again. Andrews clapped his hands together.

"Perfect! My second announcement is, we have a new singer!" A murmur ran through the crowd. They had not had a new singer in ages.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, all the way from Paris," Ronnette stepped to the side to reveal a red-headed woman in a poufy pink dress, "Miss Carlotta Giudicelli!"

Elsie let out a small gasp, but it was covered up by the smattering of light applause that rang through the room. This was La Carlotta, the spoiled prima donna from Erik's story. The lead singer of the _Opera Populairé_ , and the wife of one of the men Erik killed._ "Oh good lord, help us."_

"Thank you. You are all very kind. I hope I will enjoy my time here at the _Songbird Opera_." The poufy woman trilled with a thick Italian accent. Andrews and Ronnette took it in turns to kiss her hand.

"Now, is there anyone who could show Miss Giudicelli around?" Andrews asked. Elsie's mind began to race.

_"If someone doesn't warn her not to be a diva, Erik will kill her out of annoyance."_ She leapt from her seat. "I'll do it!" Everyone turned to stare at her.

"Miss Gredger, you wish to show Miss Giudicelli our opera house?" Ronnette looked confused. He obviously expected someone who knew the opera house better to show her around.

"Yes!" She said, a little too fast. "I-I mean, yes, I would. I know this opera house as well as any of you, and you could start practising or something while I give her a tour." She flushed pink, but Andrews clapped his hands together excitedly.

"Perfect! Carlotta, our resident stable manager will show you around." He pushed Carlotta towards Elsie, and began passing out the score for _'The White Rider.'_ Carlotta stiffly shook her hand.

"Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. You are?" Elsie smiled her warmest smile at her. She just needed to warn her against her diva tantrums, and then she would be safe.

"I'm Elsie Gredger. I run the Angel Haven horse ranch. I provide horses for the opera house and the rest of the town. Come on, there's a lot to see." And with that, she dragged her towards the dressing rooms.

"Well, what you just saw was backstage. That's where most of the action happens. Here we have the dressing rooms. Everyone has their own vanity, and a screen to change behind. It's not very fancy, but it works for everyone."

"What about the prima donna?"

"The prima donna?" Elsie turned to look at Carlotta. She didn't know why she was surprised that Carlotta expected more. From Erik's descriptions, the Paris opera was much larger and fancier that the _Songbird_, and Carlotta had had huge rooms all to herself there. She smirked a bit and led her to one of the vanities.

"This is Sarah's vanity. She's the lead." Carlotta looked appalled.

"What? This is an outrage! How can a prima donna only have a simple vanity? I will never be able to prepare myself for a show!"

Elsie gave her an odd look. "You're not the lead. That would be Sarah Bright."

Carlotta scoffed. "No, I am not. But if those managers want to keep me around I soon will be."

"Look Carlotta." Elsie said, with the air of explaining something very simple to someone very dumb. "Baisly is a town where you can completely start over. Where no reputations can follow you. And we mean no reputations. You are going to sing backup until you claw your way to the top spot, just like Sarah did. No amount of diva tantrums will change that. You may have been big in Paris, but you aren't a star here. Get used to it."

Carlotta looked as if she had just been slapped. She glared at her, but Elsie refused to back down. In the end, her eyes softened slightly and she chuckled. "Well Miss Gredger, you certainly are an excellent judge of character."

Elsie breathed a sigh of relief. She had been worried that Carlotta would question her knowing so much about her past behaviour. She smiled. " Thank you Miss Giudicelli. I like to believe so. Come, I'll show you the rest of the opera house."

The pair walked out of the dressing room and Elsie began to lead her to the prop room, talking with the diva along the way.

"So how do you know so much about the opera house if you don't work here?" Carlotta asked with genuine interest.

"Well, between providing horses to the opera house, knowing everyone here, and a few times drunkenly breaking in, I've picked up a few things." Elsie said with a small smile. "Why did you come to Baisly?"

Carlotta stiffened significantly. "I came to England to get over the death of my husband. I couldn't give up the opera, it is my life. But I wanted to stay out of large cities. So when I heard of an opera house in a small town, I jumped at the opportunity."

"You came to the right place. It's very easy just to begin anew here." Elsie took Carlotta's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "As long as you don't throw tantrums, you'll fit right in."

Carlotta smiled at her. "Thank you."

Elsie gave her a small grin in return. "Don't mention it."

They were walking down the largest hallway in the opera house now. It led to the entrance that most of the cast used. They were talking animatedly the whole time. Carlotta told her of her childhood in Italy and her love of poodles, and Elsie told of her childhood in the circus, describing the acts and animals she came to love there. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they almost didn't notice a small piece of paper fluttering down from the ceiling...

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

Erik couldn't believe his eye when he saw Carlotta step from behind the managers._ "How could they hire that cow?"_ He was even more shocked when Elsie volunteered to be her guide. When she began to tell the diva off, he immediately guessed her game. _"She's warning her so I don't come after her. Well played."_ He was surprised that they got along so well. When they headed down the enormous hallway, he knew that would be the perfect time to deliver his first message as the opera ghost.

When Elsie had left him in the basement of the old opera house, Erik's mind had instantly gone to ways he could better his new home. He had taken to sneaking out at night and stealing things from shops and prop room, always being sure to leave a little of the money he had left in its place. When his project was done, he didn't think he could have done a better job if he'd tried.

His lair was now brightly lit with candles, with heavy red curtains lining the walls. He had connected one of the old gears to the hatch in the floor, then lined the hatch with golden rails. Now, whenever the gears would turn, it would lower the hatch down to the platform near the lake. He was training Phantom to turn the gear whenever someone stepped on the platform. Across the lake was Erik's home, which was another platform rising out of the water. It was quite similar to his old home in Paris. A large organ he had found in the prop room had been repaired and moved, papers covered in his music and drawings littered the walls and floor, and the room was covered in candles. He'd even found a new bed in the prop room, a grand four-poster with black silk curtains and sheets. It was perfect to the last detail. It was home.

His second project had been to locate all the old passages. He was sure Elsie had been right about their being used to spy on the ladies of the opera, for all the mirrors in the girl's dressing room were two-way ones. (He had covered them with black cloth. He was a gentleman after all.) The passageways snuck through every crevice of the opera house. He could easily slip through the walls without being seen. It was perfect for a ghost.

Of course, he had felt a bit guilty whenever Elsie came to look for him. He had sealed the tunnel outside so no unwanted guests would get in. Unfortunately, it also kept Elsie out. He felt bad for making her worry about him. She had been so kind, taking him in and accepting him, understanding him. It was exactly for those reasons he had chosen her to be the new messenger for the opera ghost.

He tossed the letter from his place in the rafters, watching as it fluttered down in front of the two women. It hit the ground right in front of their feet. Elsie reached down and picked it up, holding it to the light to examine the seal. It was shaped like a glowering eye. The seal had been a real find, tossed carelessly into the back room of a store down the street. He couldn't believe no one had wanted it.

"What is it?" He heard Carlotta trill from below. Elsie twirled the envelope between her hands.

"It's a letter."

"Should we open it?"

"No," Elsie said and he could almost hear her grin. "I think I know who this is for, and who it's from." She looked up into the rafters, and Erik could see the smirk on her face. "Come on, let's take this to the managers."

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

"Mr. Andrews! Monsieur Ronnette! I have a letter for you!" Heads turned to watch as Elsie strode toward the managers. Andrews took it and Erik could see the confusion on his face from the ceiling.

"Who is it from?" He asked as he looked his and Ronnette's names on the front, then flipped it over to examine the seal.

Elsie smirked. "Open it and find out."

Ronnette snatched the letter from Andrews' hands, broke the seal and began to read;

_'Dear Mr. Andrews and Monsieur Ronnette. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the opera ghost-'_

"OPERA GHOST?" Carlotta shrieked and fell backwards. She began to shake as she said, "You have an opera ghost?"

"Oh yes." Elsie said, nodding. "It's actually quite a thrilling story" And she launched into the story of the old opera house, with the rest of the company joining in at odd moments. The descriptions of the ghost were absolutely ridiculous.

"I hear tell," One of the ballerinas said, "that he has no eyes, and blood streams down his face from the sockets as he wanders blindly around the opera house."

"I heard," One of the stagehands said gruffly, "that his arms aren't attached to his body and float in front of him, so he can strangle you before you see the whites of his eyes."

'But he doesn't have eyes. I just said that." The ballerina shot back.

"Quiet down and let me finish!" Ronnette yelled, and the stagehand stifled his reply. Ronnette continued with the letter;

_'I have decided that now would be the best time to make my presence known. I have a few requests I wish to make. First of all, box five is to be kept empty for me during every show. If you sell it, you shall face the consequences. Secondly, I would like to request a monthly salary of ten thousand pounds-'_

"TEN THOUSAND POUNDS!" It was Andrews' turn to shout. "This is madness!"

"Mr. Andrews, let me finish!" Ronnette yelled, then turned back to the letter;

_'Third, I shall be sending instructions on how my opera house is to be run through my messenger, Elsie Gredger-'_

"What do you know?" Andrews snapped at Elsie.

"Nothing." She said. "That letter fell from the ceiling. I only delivered it to you. Obviously, I passed some sort of test and I'm his personal messenger now. Ronnette, if you would."

_'If these instructions are not followed to the letter, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. Your faithful servant, -O.G.'_

"This is insanity!" Andrews was flailing his arms and yelling his head off. It was actually rather entertaining. "This has to be the work of some sort of madman, or prankster, or something! We cannot give in to this lunacy!"

"You should just do what he says."

Everyone, Erik included, was surprised to hear Carlotta speak up in a flat monotone. She looked pitiful, sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her usual fire and spunk seemed to have left her. Ronnette knelt beside her and took her hand.

"Why must we follow his orders Carlotta?"

Carlotta stood and brushed herself off before speaking. "Back in Paris, we had an opera ghost. Our managers refused to follow her orders and two people died. One of them was my husband. Our ghost turned out to be a man, but if a man can cause so much pain and fear, who can say what a real ghost will do?"

There was silence after her words. Finally, Andrews sighed in defeat. "Fine. We'll pay this man... ghost... whatever it is. The rest of you can go home. It's nearly six."

"Go home?" One of the boys in the ballet yelled. "We're not going home. To the _Rat's Nest_ everyone!" The crowd laughed, then began to disperse. Erik slipped back into the passage behind him.

_"The_ Rat's Nest? _That's the pub Elsie mentioned._" Erik mused as he made his way back to his lair. He passed over a grate where he could see the floor below, and saw Elsie walking with Carlotta. He felt guilt wash over him for making her worry about him for six months. He watched the two women until they had left his line of sight. _"Maybe I should go talk to her? I know where she's going to be. I could wear a disguise, no one would recognise me."_ He smirked at the thought of getting to see how Elsie and her friends acted while drunk. _"Well why not? I've had a long day, I deserve a laugh."_ And with that he swept off to collect a disguise. This was going to be fun!

* * *

><p><strong>Me: Okay, show of hands; who thought the new singer was going to be Christine?<br>Erik: *Raises hand* You're evil, you know that?  
><strong>**Me: HA HA! I know! Anyway let's all give a big round of applause to our new guest, Carlotta!****  
><strong>**Carlotta: Thank-a you-a for-a letting-a me-a be-a in-a your-a story-a.****  
><strong>**Erik: Refresh my memory. What the hell is she doing here again?****  
><strong>**Me: Because she's awesome! And she's one of my favorite characters AND I actually think she's a good singer!  
>Carlotta: Aww-a! Thank-a you-a!<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: WHAT!****  
><strong>**Me: She just can't sing 'Think of Me' to save her life!****  
><strong>**Carlotta: Hey-a! No-a need-a to-a be-a hurtful-a!****  
><strong>**Elsie: Well Carlotta, it looks like we're going to be friends.****  
><strong>**Carlotta: Yes-a, it-a does-a.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Wanna go feed the bouncing walrus?****  
><strong>**Carlotta: Sure-a.****  
><strong>**Me: NOOOOOOO! It's still trying to kill me!****  
><strong>**Erik: That's what you get for bringing Carlotta into this!****  
><strong>**Me: Ugh. Anyway, Review Review Review! They make me, Elsie and Carlotta smile!****  
><strong>**Erik: What about me? ****  
><strong>**Me: You never smile.****  
><strong>**Erik: Oh, right.**


	7. To the Rat's Nest!

**Me: Whoo! Chapter seven people!****  
><strong>**Erik: La Di Frikin' Da. ****  
><strong>**Elsie: *Hands Erik a cup.* Here, drink this.****  
><strong>**Erik: Why?****  
><strong>**Elsie: Just do it.****  
><strong>**Erik: Fine *Drinks, then a big smile crosses his face*HEYPEOPLETHISISAGREATCHAPTER!YOUSHOULDREADIT!BUTIGUESSTHATISWHYYOU'REHEREHAHAHAHAWELLI'MGONNAGOBUILDABARNWHEEEEEEEE! *Runs off at hyper speed.*****  
><strong>**Me: What was in that cup?****  
><strong>**Elsie: Coffee.****  
><strong>**Me: Ah.**

**Disclaimer: One day a bunch of men in black suits showed up at my door and told me I now owned_ 'Phantom of the Opera.'_ I was over the moon! Then I woke up, and I didn't own _'Phantom of the Opera'_ anymore. I still don't.**

* * *

><p>"So, what exactly is the <em>Rat's Nest?"<em> The opera company had just been released after receiving its first letter from the opera ghost. It had been an exciting day to say the least, but now they were headed out to their usual haunt, the _Rat's Nest_ pub.

"Oh, it's the local bar. We're all regulars there." Elsie answered Carlotta's question as they headed out into the softly falling snow. "It's sort of named after us."

"What do you mean?" Carlotta looked confused.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. Don't take it personally if someone calls you an opera rat. Around here, it's your official title."

"Horse rats ahoy!" One of the baritones, a young man named Michael yelled. Sure enough, a group of people were walking into town

"Hi opera rats! Hi Elsie!" John the stable hand waved at the crowd before turning towards the pub. "Let's get going! I could really use a drink."

"Horse rats?" Carlotta raised an eyebrow at Elsie.

"My stable hands. We're a charming group really." Carlotta laughed.

"An opera company and a hoard of stable hands together in a pub? I'll be surprised if any class I had left makes it out alive!"

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

Erik's master disguise had really just been an old black cloak with the hood pulled over his head, but it served its purpose. He had ordered his drink and taken a seat near the back of the pub without anyone seeing his masked face. Now all he had to do was wait.

It didn't take long. Soon an enormous group of people walked through the front door, chattering and laughing.

"Well well well, if it isn't the rats themselves." The bartender chuckled.

"Hello Thomas." Elsie's voice rang out over the crowd as she pushed her way to the bar. "I'd like to introduce you to the latest opera rat, Carlotta!"

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance." The bartender kissed Carlotta's hand and turned back to Elsie.

"Let me guess..."

"That's right. One initiation." She smirked. She pulled herself up onto the bar and stamped her foot.

"Listen up rats! I am pleased to announce that we have a new opera rat on our hands; Miss Carlotta Giudicelli!" The crowd around the bar applauded and Carlotta bowed.

"And we all know, with a new rat, come a rat's initiation." The crowd laughed, and Carlotta looked scared.

"What initiation?"

"Oh, nothing." Elsie said, feigning innocence. "Just a drink."

"Of what?" Carlotta looked suspicious.

Elsie grinned. "It's a mix of every kind of alcohol Tom has in the back. It's vile. But if you can keep it down, you'll be allowed to drink here!"

"What?" Carlotta gasped at the same time the drink was put in front of her. Even from where he was sitting, Erik could see it looked disgusting.

"It's how we weed out the weak drinkers." One of the stable hands said.

"It's also how we keep kids out of here." The bartender, Tom, added as he pushed the drink to Carlotta. "Sorry Miss, but it's the rule."

"It's an idiotic rule." Carlotta huffed, but downed the drink anyway. As soon as the last drops had disappeared into her mouth, the bar went silent. Then she gagged.

"That was awful!"

"She did it!" Elsie cheered, throwing her fists into the air. A cheer rang through the bar and drinks started passing around. Elsie leaned over to talk to the bartender, the started walking towards Erik.

Erik started panicking. What was she thinking? No one could know they knew each other! But she still pulled up a chair in front of him and pushed a drink towards him.

"Tom said I had to bring you this, or he'd kick you out." Erik looked at the drink and saw it was the same drink they had forced on Carlotta.

"Really? I have to drink that?"

A stunned look came over Elsie's face. "Erik?"

So she hadn't known it was him. His disguise was a success. "Yes. It is me."

Elsie beamed. "I didn't think I would be seeing you here."

Erik chuckled. "And miss out on seeing you and your friends drunk? Not a chance."

Elsie laughed, then looked back to the crowd at the bar. "I'd better head back. They'll be wondering what I'm doing talking to a back drinker.

"A what?"

"A back drinker." Elsie said this as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They're our mysterious strangers and drunks who drink in the back. The townies drink in the middle, and the rats drink at the bar. It's been that way for years, even before I got here. Back drinkers don't talk to many people, and especially not to rats. So drink up and I can be on my way."

"Fine." Erik grumbled before draining his glass. He instantly began to cough and splutter. "That was absolutely horrid!"

"But it keeps kids out of here, so it's useful. And you kept it down, so you're free to drink here without threat of being tossed out. Well, I best be going." Elsie rose from her chair, gave a small wave and ran back to the bar. The rats were all talking and drinking heavily. Carlotta seemed to be having a drinking contest with the stable hand, John. One of the ballerinas was deep in discussion with Elsie, and a few of the stable hand and stage hands had started a drinking song. It was actually quite entertaining.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

After a few hours, things were starting to get out of control. One of the ballerinas was spinning in tipsy circles around the room, the group singing had grown considerably (and gotten worse), and Elsie had pulled out a pack of cards and was currently gaining what looked like a small fortune. Carlotta had beaten three men at whatever drinking contest they had been playing before, and one of them lay passed out on the floor. Suddenly, a man sitting across from Elsie pounded the table with his fists and began to yell.

"That's impossible! You fixed the cards!"

"Alright, alright, settle down. You lost, I won. It's not that hard to understand Charles. Pay up!" Elsie was arguing with a red-faced tenor over one of her card games. He slammed his fists on the table again and yelled at her.

"Elsie Gredger, you're a cheat!"

"Am not!" Elsie yelled back. "Just give me my money so I can get out of here."

He glared at her with bloodshot eyes. "I'm not giving you a damn cent!"

Elsie's eyes flashed. "Charles Hampton, give, me, the damn, MONEY!" She leaped at him across the table and pummelled him to the ground. A sickening_ 'Thud'_ sounded around the bar as Elsie punched him in the face, mixed with a loud_ 'Crash'_ as the ballerina fell onto a table and went spiralling to the floor. Tom the bartender and John the stable hand pulled Elsie off of the drunken tenor, Charles. He scrambled to his feet, cradling his bloodied nose with one hand and tossing a small bag to Elsie with the other.

"Fine! Take the damn money! Just don't hurt me!" He ran from the bar and the two men restraining Elsie let her drop to the floor. She pulled herself up, grabbed the bag of money and pushed it into Tom's hands.

"I'm headed out. You keep that, it'll cover anything I drank or broke. See you tomorrow Tom. Bright and early John, no excuses." She grabbed the rest of her money and tripped slightly as she walked out the door. Erik decided to turn in as well, it was very late. He rose from his seat and slipped unnoticed out the door.

He saw Elsie teetering along the road up ahead. He gave a moments thought before rushing to catch up to her. She turned at the sound of his footsteps and giggled.

"Erik! There you are. I thought you would have already left. Guess I was wrong." She giggled again and continued walking, her arms swinging at her sides and her feet making dragging footprints in the snow.

"Why didn't you ride a horse here?"

Elsie laughed. "Because I can't ride a horse drunk to save my life. And I think that's what I'd have to do if I had rode here." She tripped, but caught herself before she fell face-first into the snow.

"Are you okay?" Erik asked concernedly. She looked very drunk, and Erik doubted her ability to get herself home.

"Me? Oh, of course." Elsie chuckled as she spoke. "I've been more drunk. I'll be fine." She chose that moment to trip over her own feet again. Erik only just caught her.

"Okay then, you are not walking home in this condition."

"Well then what do you suggest I do?" She huffed angrily at him. He paused a moment to think, then pulled her into his arms. She shrieked softly and wrapped her arms around his neck. "This is not what I had in mind! Put me down Erik!"

"No. I'm taking you home, since you are obviously in no state to do that yourself." He continued walking up the road to Elsie's house. She sighed an annoyed sigh, but conceded to being carried. She yawned and snuggled herself deeper into his chest. Erik tensed slightly at the contact before reminding himself that it was the middle of December and she was drunk. "Are you cold?"

"A little." She breathed, "but you're warm.'

Erik blushed crimson. "And you're drunk." She chuckled.

"Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that you're warm." She laid her head on his shoulder, and soon she had fallen asleep in his arms. The rest of the journey passed by in silence, Elsie's warm breath tickling his neck. When they reached her house, her eyes fluttered open and she began to squirm.

"We're here." Erik said half-heartedly as Elsie pulled herself from his grasp, tossed her money to the side and sat down at the table.

"Yes, I gathered that much." She muttered sarcastically as she massaged her head with her hands. She groaned. "I am exhausted." She laid her head down on the table and Erik pulled her back up.

"You are not falling asleep at this table. Trust me, it hurts in the morning. You are going upstairs to your own bed." Elsie pouted and extended her arms towards him.

"Carry me?" She sounded so much like a small child when she said that, it was impossible to say no. Erik scooped her back into his arms and carried her up the stairs. He put her down for a moment as he opened her door, then pulled her back into his arms as he strode into the room.

It was a very nice room. It was painted a deep blue, with medals from horse shows tacked to the walls above her bed, which had thick green blankets on it. Papers were strewn across the desk in the corner, and her wardrobe was flung open, as if she had simply grabbed the first dress she'd seen and left.

He laid her thin frame on the bed, and she giggled softly. "I punched a man today."

Erik chuckled. "Yes you did. Now it's time to sleep. Go to sleep Elsie."

As he was pulling her blankets around her, Elsie leaned up and kissed his cheek. Erik pulled back as she curled up, acting as though what she did was not out of the ordinary in any way.

"Thank you Erik. For taking care of me. I might not have made it home without you." She yawned again and rolled over. "Goodnight Erik." She muttered. She was asleep in seconds.

"Goodnight Elsie." Erik whispered as he bent low to brush his lips against her forehead. "And you're welcome." He slipped from her room and from her house, the memory of her lips against his face burned into his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>Erik: *Lying facedown on the couch.* I'm so depressed.<strong>**  
><strong>**Me: No one cares. Well, I don't. Hey people, do you remember a few chapters ago when I said I was doing some spacing repair, but no plot changes?****  
><strong>**Elsie: Well, she lied.****  
><strong>**Me: No I didn't! Well, I kinda didn't. There were no plot changes, but I rewrote chapter one.****  
><strong>**Elsie: She meant to change it earlier...****  
><strong>**Carlotta: But-a it-a didn't-a save-a the-a first-a time-a around-a.****  
><strong>**Me: Oh, hi Carlotta!****  
><strong>**Carlotta: Hi-a.****  
><strong>**Me: So go check out the new chapter one if you haven't already! And review! And big big BIIIIIIIG thanks to SexyKnickers for reviewing EVERY FRIKIN' CHAPTER! You ROCK!****  
><strong>**Erik: My life is a swirling black hole of depression that I can never escape from.****  
><strong>**Me: Just suck it up until the caffeine crash ends. See you next time citizens of the web!**


	8. Reunited

**Me: Hey people!****  
><strong>**Erik: You realize that's how you start almost every chapter, right?****  
><strong>**Me: Yup! I'm thinking of making a thing out of it!****  
><strong>**Erik: You've had too much sugar today, haven't you?****  
><strong>**Me: Nope! Just a lot of Ice breakers!****  
><strong>**Elsie: Aren't those mints?****  
><strong>**Me: THEY'RE CANDY TO ME!****  
><strong>**Carlotta: Okay-a then-a. Crazy-a authoress-a high-a off-a ice-a breaker-as, not-a my-a problem-a.****  
><strong>**Erik: *Watching me ninja-kicking the fridge* Let's just move on with the thanks and disclaimer.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Okay then. Thanks again to SexyKnickers, our only reviewer. Again.****  
><strong>**Carlotta: I-a don't-a get-a it-a. They-a all-a reviewed-a chapter-a four-a and-a someone-a besides-a SexyKnickers-a reviewed-a chapters-a one-a and-a five-a. Is-a it-a me-a?****  
><strong>**Erik: It's you.****  
><strong>**Elsie Anyway, thanks girl! You're the thing keeping this story running, and me in existence!****  
><strong>**Me: AND THANKS TO MY READERS AROUND THE WORLD! Seriously, there's a person in Guam reading this story. And three people in Belgium!****  
><strong>**Erik: Yes, yes, you have exotic readers, but can we hurry it up? The author's note is getting longer than the story again!****  
><strong>**Me: Fine.**

**Disclaimer: *This disclaimer takes place on the set of 'JEOPARDY'!*****  
><strong>**Alex Trebec: Okay, next question. This person owns 'Phantom of the Opera.'****  
><strong>**Random Contestant: Who is 'Queen of Drama13?'****  
><strong>**Alex Trebec: Nope! Sorry! The correct answer is Andrew Lloyd Webber! *Pushes button that sends contestant into a pit full of rabid alligators.*****  
><strong>**Random Contestant: AAAAAAAAHHH!****  
><strong>**Alex Trebec: Fun Fact; she also doesn't own Jeopardy, or Erik, or anything else awesome!****  
><strong>**Me: But I do own this plot! So that's some small consolation. Wait, why is the disclaimer taking place on the set of 'Jeopardy'? I don't even watch 'Jeopardy'!**

* * *

><p>Elsie woke up the next day with a pounding headache. She was in her own bed, still dressed and feeling as though someone had just hit her over the head with a shovel. She groaned as she pulled herself out of bed and wandered downstairs.<p>

She didn't know why, but for some reason she expected Erik to be downstairs when she got there. The kitchen, however, was empty. Thankfully her money was still sitting by the door. She walked to her liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whisky. She didn't even bother with a glass, but drank straight from the bottle. Her headache near instantly started to fade, and memories of the night before flooded into her mind.

She had punched Charles again. God, he was a stubborn drunk. She had also almost passed out on the way home, and someone had carried her back to her house.

_"Erik." _He had been the one who carried her home. She smirked. "Well, that explains why I thought he'd be here." She said to the room at large. She put down the bottle and walked back up the stairs to her room.

While she was grabbing a dress she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. She looked a mess; her hair was limp and greasy-looking, her skin was pasty and her eyes were bloodshot. The front of her dress had blood on it, and the hem was still damp from the snow.

" in blood and looking as though I just crawled out of my grave. Another ordinary night at the _Rat's Nest_."

She hummed a tune to herself as she made breakfast, and her mood was greatly improved by the time she had set out to the stables. She stopped at Red's stall and stroked his nose before tacking him up and leading him to the barns.

She occupied herself for a bit with refilling the mangers and laying out fresh straw in the stalls. She finished just as the late winter sun was rising over the horizon. The day was cold, with a softly falling snow and a breeze winding through the air. Elsie smiled at the white fields that lay before her. Maybe she would let the foals out to play in the snow today. most of them had never even seen snow before. she smirked as she remembered Red's first encounter with snow. He had been so excited and curious; he had stuck his nose straight into the white powder, realized it was cold, leaped back, slipped on a patch of ice and fallen over. At the time it had been terrifying, but now it was simply a fond memory of her stallion.

After she had finished her chores she went to go pick out the horses for the white rider.

"Let's see," She muttered to herself as she examined the list Mr. Andrews had given her, "Two black geldings, a grey mare, four brown mares, a black pony, and a white stallion." She chuckled. "Oh the colour preferences. Really, there is no way they're getting any of my red ponies to do anything in that script." Still, she picked out four of her most obedient red ponies, the mares, geldings, and stallion needed for the opera, tacked them up and led them out into the yard. Some of the stable hands were already beginning to gather.

"Oh Good Lord, my head is out to get me!"

"Alice, do us all a favour, and quit your whining." Howard snapped.

John elbowed him and glared. "Maybe you should do the same Dover."

"You're pushing your luck Flemings."

"Boys! I know you're cranky and grumpy and really need a drink, but shut your traps before I shut them for you!" Elsie snarled. The two men moved away from each other, but still sent angry glares to one another as Elsie spoke.

"Okay people! We have nine horses we need to take to the opera house. I'm riding Red, so I need nine of you. Flemings, Pettiford, no Jessa, I don't care how bad your head hurts, you're still going, Jessel, Newsum, Mandel, Augustus Mandel, it is you're own damn fault you got drunk, Baynard, Stockel, Trisch, and Kump. The rest of you get to work."

Elsie mounted Red as the rest of her hands pulled themselves onto their steeds. Magurite Jessel was grumbling about the fact that she had to ride the pony, but Oliver Kump was looking high and mighty on the white stallion.

"Okay people, let's move out!"

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

Erik was sitting on the roof, watching the sun climb slowly into the sky, when he saw what looked like a small army heading towards the opera house, with a slim woman with reddish hair riding a red stallion leading the charge. It was Elsie, most likely bringing the horses for the white rider to the opera house.

"Well, my day just got slightly more exciting." He grinned to himself as he slipped back into the opera house. He had just reached his hidden perch above the entrance when Elsie and her stable hands walked through the doors.

"Miss Gredger! You've brought the horses? Wonderful!" Andrews met them with open arms and a large smile plastered to his face. Elsie shook his hand and smiled slightly before turning back to the horse rats she had brought with her.

"Okay rats, now you walk back. before you start complaining, it's either you walk, or you ride Red. You're choice." The rats shuffled and grumbled, but in the end trickled out without complaint. Elsie turned back to Andrews.

"Sorry about that. Yes, I have the horses. They're in the stable. I'll be around soon to help with rehearsals, but right now I need to go distribute headache cures." She walked past Andrews and up the stairs to the stage, Erik following behind through the walls.

Elsie ended up backstage, where most of the company was holding their heads and groaning.

"Quit your moaning, I have some relief for you." Elsie yelled, pulling a bottle of whisky from her bag. the opera rats converged on the alcohol, passing around the bottle and sighing in relief as it numbed their headaches.

"Elsie, I think I love you." One of the ballerinas, a girls named Jenny Newsum said as she swigged back the drink. "Ugh, I ache all over."

"Well, you did fall into a table." Another ballerina, Danyell Dammrich, chuckled as she gulped down a bit of the whiskey.

"Um, Elsie?" It was Charles Hampton, the man Elsie had punched the night before. he was wringing his hands and avoiding her gaze. "I'm sorry about the way I acted last night. it was quite ungentlemanly."

"Oh, don't worry about it." Elsie waved it off with a flick of her hand. "You were drunk. I should be the one apologizing to you for punching you."

"I still can't believe you took him down with one punch." One of the singers, Bernadine Hert, laughed as she took the bottle.

"Well, Charles has never been a fighter, have you Charl?" Charles' twin sister Charlesetta, another singer, slung an arm around her brother and laughed. "Even when we were kids, he was never tough. Ever. At all."

"Okay Charlie, I think they get it." Charles huffed and the rats laughed. Carlotta yawned and leaned her head on Elsie's shoulder.

"I am exhausted. Why did I spend the entire night drinking?"

"Because you made a small fortune off me, Isaac and Tyson?" Coy Henken, yet another singer, piped up from the back. Isaac Egertson and Tyson Winchester, his fellows in singing nodded behind him.

"Elsie still made the most. I think she made more than Tom did that night." One of the stagehands, Douglas Mullahy, grinned as he gulped down a sip of whiskey. "I lost my entire pay check to you Else. Remind me never to play cards against you while drunk again."

"No promises." Elsie grinned. "I make most of my living of you people getting drunk and falling for my tricks. Again. And again and again and again!" Laughter rang through the room, but it was soon interrupted by the ballet mistress, Geraldine Holland, yelling for the dancers to get out on stage before she dragged them out.

Elsie laughed along with the crowed as the dancers scrambled from their seats. Geraldine had a tight grip on her ballerinas. She slipped from her seat and started towards the rat tunnel. The large hallway had been dubbed that since it was mostly used by opera rats to get in and out of the opera house unseen. Elsie smiled as she remembered the time she, John, a dancer named Hector Boitel and his singer brother Broderick had broken in and thrown fruit at the walls. They were still trying to figure out where they got ripe fruit in the middle of January.

she had planned on going to the stables and checking on the horses. fate, it seemed, had other plans. halfway down the hall she had stopped to adjust the strap of her bag on her shoulder when a pair of gloved hands wrapped around her eyes and mouth, pulling her backwards into total darkness before she could so much as yelp.

The hands left her face as soon as the door she had been pulled into fell shut. She tried to turn around and face her kidnapper, but he held her arms fast and pulled her down a set of large stone stairs. She tried to speak, but he wrapped a hand around her mouth whenever she tried to make a sound.

Her captor led her through a room and down a spiralling stairs. She could see a light near the bottom, growing brighter and brighter until they were standing in a large, brightly lit room. There were candles on almost every available surface, giving it the appearance of being above ground. The walls were covered in red velvet curtains, and a small square of floor was surrounded by elaborate golden rails. Near the back was a stall which held a black horse, which had his head stuck in his trough. and standing next to her was a masked man wearing a cape and a smirk.

The smirk quickly fell from his face as Elsie began to yell at him.

"What the hell Erik? You scared me half to death! What on Earth made you think that _that_ was a good idea?"

Erik faltered for a second, but hastily regained his composure and his grin.

"I thought you would appreciate being shown the phantom's lair in true Phantom fashion."

Elsie's angry façade dropped, and all at once she looked lost and upset. Erik was about to ask what was wrong when she suddenly flung herself at him, wrapping her arm around him and pressing her face into his chest.

"Just promise me you'll never scare me like that again." She whispered. Erik just stood there awkwardly before wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry if I scared you that badly." He said. Elsie laughed and pulled away.

"I'm not talking about your idiotic joke." She smiled sadly up at him and Erik could see tears welling in her eyes. "I'm talking about you dropping off the face of the earth for six months. I thought you were hurt or starving or... or..." Her sentence trailed off and she hugged him again. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Agreed." He said, holding her close. "I didn't know you would be so worried."

"Erik, are you daft?" She pulled away again, and this time her eyes were laughing. "Of course I was worried! We're friends! Friends worry about friends when they leave them in the pitch-black catacombs of an opera house and then don't hear from them for half a year."

Erik chuckled. "Well, maybe I am daft. I've never had a friend to worry about me, so I didn't know I wasn't supposed to disappear and not inform you of my comings and goings."

"Well get used to it." Elsie grinned slyly and wandered about the room. "This is impressive Erik! But really, I know this didn't take you six months."

"No, it didn't." Erik walked to the golden rails and unlatched one side, letting it swing open like a door. "Come, I'll show you the rest."

Elsie sauntered over the railed floor, quickly followed by Erik. He whistled softly and the horse raised his half-white face. He cantered to the largest gear in the room and began pushing it.

The moment the wheel started turning, the floor beneath the pair's feet began to lower. Elsie gasped and clutched onto Erik's shoulder, releasing it immediately and blushed scarlet.

The lift stopped on a platform in front of a lake. Elsie could see another platform, glowing with candles, on the other side. Next to their platform was a small gondola. Elsie turned to Erik with her hands on her hip.

"And where exactly did you get a gondola?"

Erik shrugged as he walked over to the boat. "I had it lying around.'

Elsie crossed her arms and turned around to glare at him again. "And what occasion would call for you to have that lying around?"

"Well, obviously this one." Erik stepped into the boat and held out his hand. "So, are you going to just stand there question the origins of my boat, or are you going to come see my home?"

Elsie rolled her eyes and took his hand. "There is no way in hell I'm going to miss out on seeing why you vanished for six months. Let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>Me: OOOOHHH! SLIGHT CLIFFIE!<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: Didn't you already describe what my lair looks like in a past chapter?****  
><strong>**Me: SHUT UP! *Whacks with a five iron*****  
><strong>**Elsie: Oh great, now she's using golf clubs as weapons. We're all doomed!****  
><strong>**Erik: Ow! Stop hitting me!****  
><strong>**Me: TELL THE READERS TO REVIEW!****  
><strong>**Erik: Review people! Before she bashes my skull in!****  
><strong>**Me: That's better.****  
><strong>**Erik: The bouncing walrus will hear of this.****  
><strong>**Me: Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! And as a side note, I'm starting a new story in honour of SCHOOL ENDING!****  
><strong>**Elsie: It's a comedy called Phantom of Summer Vacation! I'm not in it, but I guess it will be okay.****  
><strong>**Me: And if you want to know who exactly works for Elsie and in the opera house, or who anyone else in this story is, PM me and I'll send you a list!****  
><strong>**Erik: She made a list of characters that weren't even mentioned. You're pathetic, you know that?****  
><strong>**Me: SHUT UP! *Whacks with five iron again*****  
><strong>**Erik: THIS IS GETTING POINTLESS!**


	9. Realization

**Me: You guys are lucky this chapter even happened.****  
><strong>**Erik: What are we doing wrong?****  
><strong>**Elsie: There were no reviews. Not one. Please guys, even if you're just telling us what we're doing wrong! Because if you don't review, she stops writing and if she stops writing, I don't exist.****  
><strong>**Me: So enjoy your chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Phantom of the Opera'. If I did, we wouldn't have had to suffer through the catastrophe that is Raoul's hair.**

* * *

><p>The boat bumped up against the edge of the platform. Erik leapt from the gondola and turned around to help Elsie from her spot. Elsie looked around in awe. There were candles and drawings and sculptures and sheets of music everywhere! She had never seen a more beautiful room. There was a piano in the corner, one she recognised as the one Michael Ashfield had fallen on and broken last spring. In fact, she recognized a lot of the things in the room as stuff that had been tossed into the prop room. She could see a grand four-poster bed in the next room, and there was a stretch of wall covered by blood-red curtains. Erik was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her reaction.<p>

"It's beautiful, Erik."

Erik beamed. "I'm glad you like it."

Elsie grinned back and made her way to the piano. She stared at the ivory keys as though mesmerized. She looked back up at Erik.

"Will you play something for me, please?

Erik's face darkened. "What?"

"Carlotta said their opera ghost was a grand composer and a marvellous singer. I wish to hear it for my self."

"No." Erik growled. "I shall do no such thing."

Elsie crossed her arms over her chest. "Why not?"

"Because my muse abandoned me."

Elsie's face softened. "You mean Christine, don't you?"

Erik stormed about the room. "How could I not? She was my inspiration, my light, my reason for living for years!"

"And now she's gone." Erik winced at the bluntness of Elsie's words. She noticed. "I'm sorry Erik, but there's no point in beating around the bush. She's gone and she's never coming back. You will most likely never see her again, and you cannot let it stop you from being happy. I know your music makes you happy, and without it you're empty. It doesn't matter that Christine is not here! If you let her control your life even when she's not here, you will never be able to start over."

When she finished her speech she was right in front of him, glaring angrily into his face, and Erik could see hate in her eyes. His mind raced. What had he done to deserve her hate? Then he realized it was not he she hated; it was Christine. She hated Christine for ripping apart his heart. She cared that much for him

Erik broke under her gaze. "Fine. I will play."

Elsie's hard glare disappeared and she actually clapped a little. "Wonderful!" She ran to the piano and sat down beside it. Erik seated himself at the bench, and began to play.

Elsie felt her spirit soaring. It was as if the music was filling a part of her soul that had yet been empty. Then he began to sing, and she felt herself being pulled in like a fish on line. She barely paid attention to the lyrics, and even in the years to come she could never truly recall them, or even what the song was about. All she knew was that she never wanted Erik to stop playing. She never wanted to stop listening to his voice.

It was over all too soon. Erik smiled slightly as he finished his song. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed his music. Elise stood and walked behind him, leaning over his shoulder to look at the music.

"I wish I could play like you. That was beautiful."

Erik looked up at her. "Don't you play? I saw a piano in your house."

"That old thing? It came with the house. I can't play to save my life."

Erik thought for a moment before saying, "Well, what if you had a teacher?"

Elsie looked at him oddly. "What do you mean?"

"I could teach you, if you wished."

Elsie gaped at him. "You could? Really?"

Erik grinned. "Always the tone of surprise."

Elsie blushed. "I'm sorry. It's just; I didn't think you'd want to bother."

Erik sighed. "Elsie, of course I would bother. Actually, it would fun to teach you."

Elsie rolled her eyes. "Because you'd get to see how awful I am?"

"More or less."

Elsie hit him in the shoulder. "You're awful!" She laughed. "Come on, you better take me back now."

"Why?" Erik asked. He liked having Elsie around.

"Because everyone will be wondering where I am."

"Oh, right."

They boarded the boat and Erik rowed them across the lake. When they reached the lift again, Erik lifted Elsie out of the boat and into the lift.

"That was unnecessary." Elsie muttered as the lift began to rise.

"Maybe so." Erik said with a grin. "But it was still fun."

Elsie blushed scarlet.

Erik led Elsie up the stairs and through the corridor, stopping at the wall that concealed the door. Elsie pushed it open, waved goodbye and slipped out of the opening, whispering behind her, "I'll see you at the _Rat's Nest_ later?"

"I wouldn't miss it." Erik grinned as Elsie snapped the wall shut behind her.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

"Bartender! Drinks all around! Double for Bransford, the horse stepped on his foot."

Tom sighed. "Dillon, I have a name. It's Tom. Tom White. We played together when we were kids."

"So?"

"Never mind." Tom pulled out the cups and began pouring the drinks. Elsie sat down at the bar.

"Do you ever get tired of serving over eighty drunken performers and stable hands every night?"

"No." Tom chuckled as he passed Elsie a gin. "It's good for business. Since I opened this bar, I have never had money worries."

"It probably helps that the opera company makes up half the towns population."

"Yes, that helps a bit."

"Hi Elsie." John slipped into the seat next to her. "How was the first rehearsal?"

"A disaster." Pam Krisher, Sarah's understudy, collapsed into the seat on Elsie's other side. "Those ponies tried to kill me!"

"I told you they'd never follow orders. Temper, that's what they've got!"

The four friend's conversation was closely watched by a figure in the back, clothed in a black cloak that covered his face. Erik was smiling from under hood. He liked watching Elsie and her friends. She looked so happy, like she wouldn't rather be anywhere else. But something seemed different.

John was sitting as close as he possibly could to Elsie, butting into her conversations and not leaving her alone. Twice, it looked as if she was going to walk to the back to see him, but John was always suddenly at her side, pulling her back with a laugh and a smile. Elsie sent an apologetic look Erik's way, but with John sticking so closely to her she couldn't go see him. Erik felt something lurch in his chest. He had never really liked John. Not at all.

"I'm gonna head home. If I get drunk again I won't get up tomorrow. Bye Tom. See you tomorrow rats." Elsie called as she rose from her seat a few hours later. She hadn't drunk much, and had spent the night playing cards with the other horse rats. She grabbed her winnings and rushed out the door.

"You know, I think I'll turn in too." John said as he downed the last of his drink. He followed Elsie out the door. Erik rose from his seat and slipped out unnoticed. He had been planning on catching up to Elsie, but John had beaten him to it.

"Oi! Elsie!" John rushed to her side. "Thought you might like me to walk you home."

"John, I am perfectly able to take care of myself." Elsie grumbled. John simply laughed.

"It's the thought that counts."

Elsie looked over her shoulder at Erik, who was hidden in the shadows. Elsie paid for her lapse in concentration however, and tripped into John, who caught her around her waist.

"Thanks John. You can let me go now."

"Why?" John laughed. "You might fall again."

There it was again; that lurching feeling in his chest. He had no idea what it was, but it felt slightly familiar.

The pair walked to Elsie's house, stopping at the front door. Elsie turned to face her companion.

"Thank you for walking home John. You can leave now."

"You're welcome." John said, ignoring the second part of her statement. "Elsie, there's a reason I wanted to walk you home."

"What?"

"Do you remember when I first came to work here?"

"Yeah." Elsie said, remembering the day. "It was right before Higgins retired, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was." John said. "Elsie, do you know why I wanted to work at Angel Haven?"

"No. Why?"

John stepped closer to Elsie. "So I could be closer to you."

Elsie gaped at him, and Erik's fists clenched.

"I saw you working here, and I knew you were different from anyone I'd ever met before. You were strong, proud, and independent, despite being one of the only women working at Angel Haven. Then you bought the place, and started hiring more women, and I saw how kind you were, how much you cared for those around you. I fell in love with your spirit, and with you. Elsie, I love you."

John stepped closer to Elsie, pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers.

Erik felt the lurching feeling in his chest turn into a fire he knew well. Jealousy; the same white-hot jealousy he had when he had watched Raoul and Christine kiss on the roof of the Opera Populairé. He absolutely hated this boy! How dare he kiss Elsie? Elsie cared about him!

But wait...

Why was he so jealous? Did he truly care for Elsie like that?

The answer fell into place before his very eyes. Yes, he did. Elsie had taken him in, given him a home, been his friend, even gazed upon his face without fear! And she had never pried, never tried to look behind the mask again, as Christine had done.

She had earned his trust, his respect, and somewhere along the way his affection. He didn't love her, not yet, but he knew he would with time. But not if she was stolen away by this little twit.

He was not going to let the best thing that ever happened to him be pulled away from him again. He would kill this fool if he had to.

But then he saw her push him away, looking sadly at him. He went as close as he could to hear her words.

"No John. I can't."

"Why not?" John whined. "Elsie, I love-"

"Don't." She said, and backed away into the door. "John, you are a sweet boy, and have been a wonderful friend, but you are a child."

"No I'm not! I'm nineteen!"

"That's not what I mean!" She cried. "You have never left your hometown! You know nothing of life beyond Baisly and you most likely never will. You are sheltered! A child! And you've just turned nineteen and I'm turning thirty in March! I'm at least eleven years older than you!"

"That doesn't matter!" John yelled. "My sister got married to someone fifteen years older than she was!"

"That's different! And it wouldn't matter anyways because I don't love you!"

The world seemed to freeze. Erik couldn't believe his ears. She didn't love him! He only just registered the look of complete devastation on John's face.

"You... you don't?" He sounded as though the world had been pulled out from under his feet. Elsie shook her head.

"No John. It would be unfair to let you believe otherwise. I don't love you. It's killing me to hurt you like this, but I can't string you along. I do not love you, and I never will." Elsie was choking up as she opened her door. She stepped inside and turned back towards the boy on her doorstep.

"Goodbye John." Her voice cracked as she said this, and Erik could hear her sob as she slammed the door. John looked stunned for a moment, and then began to trudge back through the snow.

Erik was seeing red. This idiot had made Elsie cry. He had to pay. He grabbed his Punjab lasso and slipped after the boy.

John was walking through an alley between two buildings towards his house when something reached out and grabbed him by his collar. He tried to let out a yelp, but a gloved hand silenced him. He felt a rope around his neck, and his vision was beginning to cloud.

Erik was strangling him. He was going to make him pay for hurting Elsie. But a voice in the back of his mind started screaming at him. This was Elsie's friend! She would never speak to him again if he killed him. He couldn't let that happen.

He leaned close to the boy's ear, and whispered with an icy tone. "Consider this a warning to you, boy. Stay away from her." He released his hold on him and the boy collapsed unconscious into the ground. Erik grimaced slightly at the sight before sweeping away and returning to the opera house. He would talk to Elsie tomorrow.

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><p><strong>Me: FINALLY! It took you nine whole chapters to realize that!<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: So I'm clueless! So what? ****  
><strong>**Me: Never mind.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Don't forget to review!**


	10. Finding Each Other

**Me: Hey people! Welcome back!  
>Erik: You know, if you keep making the readers wait for chapters, they'll end up coming after you in the form of an angry mob. *Crosses fingers.* Please, please, pleeeeaaaase be soon!<br>****Elsie: You have issues. Just enjoy the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Phantom of the Opera.' If I did Raoul would have had normal hair.**

* * *

><p>Elsie woke up feeling absolutely miserable. It was as if she'd run a mile only to have someone whack her with a stick. She sighed and pulled herself out of bed. She caught sight of herself in the mirror; she looked like she felt. Her old plaid nightgown was rumpled from the tossing and turning she'd done, her face was tear-stained and her eyes were red and puffy. She moaned and turned away from her reflection.<p>

John. John had told her he loved her last night. He had kissed her. She had pushed him away. She had broken his heart. She groaned again and punched the wall. It did nothing put add a throbbing hand to everything else that was wrong today

She had always liked John. He was like the little brother she never had. He had been just a kid when he came to work at Angel Haven, ten or eleven. She had been one of the only women, and she was the newest. He was one of the only children, so she decided to take him under her wing. She was the one who showed him the ropes on his first day, and the one he always went to when something went wrong. She was very fond of him, and loved being his friend. But she didn't love him.

She had been shocked when he had said he loved her, though it had explained why he had been acting so clingy lately. She was certain he didn't actually love her, but the idea of having her. He was barely nineteen, still a child in her eyes. He couldn't feel emotions that deep.

She grabbed a dress from her wardrobe, got changed and left the house without breakfast. She felt if she ate any food she would be sick. She decided to leave the morning chores to the horse rats and pulled herself up on Red bareback. She dug her heels into his flanks and he shot off, leaving the ranch behind in a matter of seconds.

They were riding through the forest she had found Erik in. she smiled at the memory. He had been so vulnerable then, even if he put on a brave face. He always tried to pretend as if he was a man of stone, but Elsie knew how deeply he felt things.

Elsie loved riding with Red like this, feeling the wind in her hair, no saddle beneath her, knowing one misstep would most likely send both of them flying into a tree. She had done a lot of Red's training in this forest. She knew every path like the back of her hand, and barely used them for that reason. She always wanted to find something new, a new trail, a new place she hadn't seen before, something exciting. Red just lived running, so they both ended up happy.

Elsie turned abruptly and started heading back. She loved riding, but today she was going to the opera house to help with rehearsals. She was glad of the excuse not to face John yet, but she doubted he would come to work anyway.

They left the forest into the blinding winter sunshine. It must have snowed the night before, because the ground was covered with a fresh blanket of white. Red slowed to a trot as the headed town the path to town.

Elsie left red in the opera house stables and headed inside. She knew immediately something was off. The entire opera company was whispering amongst themselves, and it didn't sound like good news.

She walked up to a group of singers and tapped the nearest one on the shoulder. She as a turned and Elsie saw it was Megan Magley, a happy young woman who had been at the opera house for three years. In all those three years, this was the gravest Elsie had ever seen her.

"What's going on?" She asked. "Did Gilbert fall and break another leg? Please tell me it was his own this time."

Megan shook her head. "No, didn't you hear? They found John half-strangled outside this morning!"

"What?" John? Half-strangled? She couldn't shake the feeling this was somehow connected to her.

"Yeah." Megan breathed sadly before throwing herself back into her story. "He's lucky to be alive. He has a fever and he's delirious from being outside all night, but we're all trying to figure out who tried to strangle him, because he keeps screaming about a shadow trying to kill him." She giggled nervously. "I think it might have been the opera ghost. What do you think Elsie? Elsie?" But Elsie was already gone. She knew exactly who had tried to kill John, and she wasn't going to let him get away with it.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

"Erik! Get your caped ass out here before I swim across this lake and drag it out myself!"

Elsie was standing on the platform by the underground lake, screaming her head off at the phantom she knew was on the other side. She only had to wait a minute before Erik appeared from around a corner, standing in his boat and going slower than lame horse in a heat wave, in Elsie's opinion.

Erik had just stepper out of the boat when Elsie was at his throat, looking out for blood.

"What. The. Hell. Erik." She growled and Erik got the sudden urge to take a few steps back. Elsie could be scary when she wanted to be.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." This just made Elsie madder. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and Erik felt his feet leave the floor. He made a mental note never to make her this mad again.

"You know perfectly well what I mean." She barked at him. "You almost killed John!"

"How do you know it was me?" Erik said plainly. Elsie wasn't buying it.

"Don't play games with me Erik. They found him half-strangled, and you carry around a Punjab lasso. I can put two and two together. Why did you try to kill him?"

"He made you cry."

Elsie dropped him, and Erik landed on his rear. She ignored this and began to scream at him.

"You tried to kill an innocent man because he made me cry? Erik, what on earth possessed you to do that? You know I can take care of myself!"

"He also kissed you."

Elsie stopped mid-rant and gave him an odd look. "What?"

"He kissed you. I couldn't let him do that."

Elsie was seething. She hadn't wanted John to kiss her, but who was Erik to tell her who could and couldn't kiss her. It definitely crossed the line.

"And why not?" She asked angrily. Erik didn't answer. Instead he kissed her.

Elsie would have reeled back from shock, but Erik had a death grip on her shoulders. She was frozen for a moment, but the shock quickly wore off and she began kissing him back. Their lips moved together, and Erik relished in the sensation of her lips on his. They broke apart slowly, and Erik could see the look of pure shock on Elsie's face.

"That's why." He breathed. Elsie blinked, and brought her hands to his face.

"Erik…" She whispered, and kissed him again.

* * *

><p><strong>Me: Finally! The readers have been waiting ten freakin' chapters for that!<br>Erik: You need to lay off the sugar.  
><strong>**Me: Whatever.  
><strong>**Elsie: Don't forget to review, and if you are having a bit of trouble keeping track of the characters…  
><strong>**Erik: Like me.  
><strong>**Me: And me.  
><strong>**Erik: You're the one writing the story and you're having trouble keeping track of the characters?  
><strong>**Me: Sad, isn't it?  
><strong>**Elsie: You can PM the authoress and she'll send you a complete list!  
><strong>**Me: Ciao!**


	11. Christmas in Baisly

**Me: Hey people! I am so sorry for the long wait, but I was on vacation and I focused more on my other story while I was there.****  
><strong>**Erik: Only you would write on vacation.****  
><strong>**Me: Then when I sat down to write the chapter after I got back, I had total writer's block.****  
><strong>**Elsie: She doesn't pre-write chapters. She just writes them, edits them and uploads them. ****  
><strong>**Erik: Usually at one in the morning.****  
><strong>**Me: So just enjoy the chapter and I promise I'll be faster with the next one.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Phantom of the Opera'. If I did, Carlotta would have been banned from singing 'Think of Me.' (I mean seriously, she was made for the Countess in 'Il Muto', but that aria makes me cringe.)**

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><p>"Alright people, that's enough for today. You can head off." The entire opera company cheered with relief at Andrews' words. This rehearsal had been gruelling. Ronnette seemed to be trying to kill them. But thankfully it was over, and they were free for a few days.<p>

Elsie hung back from the group as they walked out the doors to the _Rat's Nest_, on the pretence of getting her bag. However, as soon as her friends had disappeared, she ran to the passageway behind the wall in the large hallway.

It had been three weeks since Erik had kissed her, and they had barely seen each other since. Between rehearsals for the White Rider, caring for her ranch and continuing to go to the Rat's Nest every night, it had been hard to find a time to meet. They also had to be wary of the others. Carlotta had been keeping an annoyingly close eye on her ever since John's near-death experience.

Elsie hurried down the spiralling staircase that lead to Erik's home. Finally, it was Christmas. Well, Christmas Eve. Elsie loved Christmas. Her friends told her that she started acting like an overactive five-year-old every time the 24th of December rolled around, but she didn't care. Christmas was her favourite time of year.

She practically jumped off the staircase as she entered Erik's, there was no other word for it, lair. (Though she did try to avoid the word as much as she could. It made him sound like a villain from the stories her mother told her as a child.) It was dark, a sure sign that he was either out, or trying to scare her again. The latter proved to be true as Elsie felt a hand grip her shoulder.

"Erik, I know it's you. Bugger off."

"Damn." The masked man let his hand leave her shoulder and she turned to face him.

"I can barely see you." She said, squinting in the dark. "Light a damn candle or something before I trip."

"Language Elsie." Erik grinned before lighting one of the nearest candles. It flickered to life and Elsie's face came into view. She looked exhausted, but happy. Erik thought he could guess why. In the sparse time he had seen her these past few week, the only thing she could talk about was Christmas. The girl was starting to drive him insane.

"Happy Christmas Erik." She all but squealed in his ear as she flung her arms around his neck.

"Happy Christmas." He said begrudgingly. "Now will you please let me breathe?"

"Sorry." She said and released him. "But I'm just so excited!"

"I guessed that." He said, rubbing his neck. She glared at him.

"You really know how to put a damper on the best time of the year. Now cheer up! I brought you something."

"Really?" Erik asked.

"Why is that such a surprise?" Elsie was confused. Did he not get presents when he was at the Opera Populairé? She thought that maybe Madame Giry must have given him something, but now she wasn't so sure. Her heart panged for the boy who had grown into the man that stood before her. All of her favourite childhood memories were from Christmas.

"No reason." Erik said quickly, looking at the floor. Elsie didn't believe him for a second, but decided not to ask. Erik was so touchy about his past.

"Here." She smiled at him before handing him small wrapped box from her bag. Erik took it gingerly, as though he expected it to explode.

"Well, go ahead, open it." She said, excitement lacing her every word. "It won't bite…much."

"This is why I don't trust you." He chuckled before pulling the paper off the package and opening the box.

Inside was a beautiful oval music box. It was painted a soft, light blue, with designs of flowers carved along the edges. On top was a figurine of two people dancing. The woman had gentle porcelain features, red-brown hair swept into a bun, and a lavender ball gown. The man was dressed in black, with dark hair and a long cape. And on his face was a mask identical to his own.

"How did you…"

"I know a person." Elsie waved off his question before he could answer it. "Play it."

Erik wound the music box, almost expecting it to play 'Masquerade'. Instead of the familiar tune, however, a haunting melody began to play as the couple began to dance.

"Moonlight Sonata, by Ludwig van Beethoven." He whispered as he watched the china figures spin in their eternal circle. Elsie beamed

"I knew you would like it! A friend of mine in the city makes these special, and I got him to cook one up for me."

"Elsie," He said, tearing his eyes away from the music box to look up at the woman in front of him. "How much did this cost?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter. I'm just glad you like it." Erik continued to glare at her though, and eventually she cracked under his gaze. "Alright, it was five hundred pounds."

"Five hundred pounds?" Erik yelled, almost dropping the music box. "Elsie, why did you do that? I'm not worth it."

Elsie glared at him and yelled back, "Well, a personalized music box doesn't come cheap, you know! And I paid that much because you are worth it, Erik. No matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise!" Her gaze softened and she walked over to Erik, wrapping her arms around his neck again. "You are one of the most amazing men I have ever met. You are a composer, an artist, a writer, a genius and damn it Erik, I love you!" Erik's was taken aback by her words. Elsie seemed a little surprised as well. She stood frozen for a second, then tried to move away. But Erik wound his arms around her waist, keeping her in place.

"I love you too." He said, the emotion hanging off every syllable. Elsie's eyes widened.

"You… you do?" She stammered. She honestly couldn't believe it. He loved her?

"Of course I do." Erik smirked at her look of shock. "Why are you so surprised?" And with that he bent down and kissed her, the music box still playing in his hand.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

John had finally been released from the confines of his bed, all traces of his fever gone. He was distinctly thinner than he had been before, but Doctor Russell had declared him healthy enough to leave the house that morning.

He wandered the streets for a while, until he came across the alley he had been attacked in. He slipped down it, checking over his shoulder every now and then for any signs of an attacker.

He was positive it had been the opera ghost who had attacked him that night. Who else but a ghost could move so swiftly and silently, like a shadow? His hallucinations during his fever had all been of a shadow trying to strangle him.

The ghost had told him something. He strained his memory, trying to remember what it had been. Then something came to him.

A voice, a voice he knew he would never forget, a voice like velvet and ice wrapped into one, came from the depth of his memory, whispering into his ear and swirling around his mind; "Stay away from her."

The spirit must have meant Elsie. Who else could it be? But that meant that the ghost was after her. That must have been the reason he had chosen her as his messenger. But what would a ghost want with someone like Elsie?

He didn't know the answer to these questions, but he did know he couldn't let the spirit get his hands on Elsie. He knew what he had to do.

He was going to hunt down the opera ghost, and no one was going to stop him.

* * *

><p><strong>Me: OOH! CLIFFIE!<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: I'm going to kill that little pipsqueak.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Erik, be nice.****  
><strong>**Erik: Fine. *Grumbles* I still want to kill him.****  
><strong>**Me: Oh, relax. It's not like he stands a chance or anything.****  
><strong>**Erik: I don't know if that's a spoiler of evil foreshadowing.****  
><strong>**Me: And you never will.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Don't forget to review!****  
><strong>**Me: And if you want to hear the song Erik's new music box play's here's the link. http:/ www. youtube. com/ watch ?v=cf7IAQ774_0. Just remove the spaces.****  
><strong>**Erik: Thanks, by the way.****  
><strong>**Elise: You're welcome Erik! *Kisses*****  
><strong>**Me: Ugh, I'm getting cavities.**


	12. Love of a Sister

**Me: Hey people! I am truly sorry for the short chapters, but I write these things at one in the morning.  
><strong>**Erik: You do not have good sleeping habits.  
><strong>**Elsie: She really doesn't.  
><strong>**Disclaimer: If I owned 'Phantom of the Opera' it would suck because I can't write music to save my life. Seriously, I've tried and failed. Badly.**

* * *

><p>Elsie awoke bright and early the next morning. Christmas. A smile spread across her face at the thought. It was finally Christmas. She hurried through her morning chores (Not even Christmas could keep her from her horses.) and rushed back inside, digging under her bed for the loose floorboard. She pulled it up and dragged out the large sack of gifts. She grinned at the sight. This was why Christmas was her favourite holiday.<p>

The rats had a tradition that, instead of exchanging gifts at Christmastime, they would drop off their presents for each other at the Rat's Nest and collect their own at the days end. Of course, they had long debated whether or not Tom knew they broke into his bar on Christmas.

Elsie pulled herself up on Red and set off for town. She was planning to spend the day with Erik. Maybe if she was lucky she could convince him to go riding with her. After all, Christmas _was_ a time for miracles.

She stopped at the back of the Rat's Nest and pulled open the door. A few bags were already there. She added hers to the pile then grabbed Red's harness and slipped across the street. She had almost made it too, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She jumped and turned around, coming face to face with a very gaunt-looking John.

"John?" She half-asked. She knew it was him in front of her, but he looked so different.

"Elsie." His voice was weak and frail, but he still pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "I was worried about you."

"Worried about me?" She asked, pushing him away. _'Again.'_ a little voice in her head sneered. "It's you we should be worried about. Look at you; you look close to keeling over any second!"

"Elsie, I had reason to be worried." He gripped her shoulders uncomfortably tight. "I think it was the opera ghost who attacked me, and I think he may have you in his sights."

"…what?"

"The man who tried to kill me, he told me to stay away from you." His voice was shaking with fear, and his eyes were wide with worry. "Elsie, I think he may be after you."

The situation was laughable. Horribly so, but still laughable. John stood before her, telling her the man she was in love with and had been going to see before he stopped her was out to get her. She had to fight very hard to keep from laughing in his face.

"I'm serious Elsie." He must have seen the mirth in here eyes. "I don't think it's safe for you to go to the opera house anymore."

This touched a nerve. Did he not think she was strong enough to take care of herself? Did he think she actually needed protection?

'John, I can take care of myself. You, of all people, should know that."

"Elsie, you don't understand. He tried to kill me!"

"I understand completely, John. I'm not letting a few wisps of air and a rumour drive me away."

"You delivered his note! You're his messenger! How can you not believe he's real?

"I believe he's real." She said poisonously, pulling herself out of his grip. "I just don't believe I need to leave the opera. If he's after me, let him come I say. I'll be waiting for him when he does."

"Elsie." He grabbed her wrist as she tried to turn from him, pleading her with his eyes. "For my sake, please don't go back there. Please."

Elsie looked at him. The strong-willed little boy she had watched grow up had disappeared, and in his place was a weak, grovelling old man. It pained her to see him like this. Erik had scarred him, and taken the boy she knew and loved. Or had he disappeared the moment he kissed her? The moment he changed from sweet, innocent little John to a tall, gangly young man taking her first kiss. Or had it been both? John had changed in her eyes the moment he kissed her, told her he loved her. And now he was changed even more. So had it been the attack? The kiss? Maybe she would never know. But she did know that no amount of begging would make her stay away from Erik. She knew, no matter how he changed, her love for John was that of a sister for a younger brother. Erik held her heart.

"I'm sorry John." She said, tears choking her words. She had said goodbye to him on her doorstep the night he kissed her, but somehow this seemed more like the true goodbye. She knew, after this, things could never be the same again. She could never see John the same way again. "I can't abandon the opera house. It is as much home to me as the ranch."

"Elsie," He pleaded with her, clutching to her hand. Elsie knew it was time.

"Goodbye John." She said, gently pulling her hand from his, climbing back onto Red's back and trotting off, leaving John standing alone in the street, looking after her in the vain hope she would return.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

"Erik, you better not be in one of your moods today. I've already reached my drama limit."

Erik looked up at the sound of Elise descending the stairs. He had been grooming Phantom, but the despair in her voice made him abandon the task instantly and rush to her side.

"What is wrong?" He asked, taking in the look of complete and utter sadness on her face. She looked like she was about to cry.

"I met John in the street today." She said, and Erik understood. He pulled her close, whispering comforting words into her ear and stroking her hair. He could feel her tears beginning to fall, staining his jacket. He simply pulled her closer.

'It's strange," She said, sniffing slightly and rubbing here eyes. "That our friendship ended like this." She sat down, and Erik sat beside her, draping his arm across her shoulders and letting her head rest against his arm.

"Like how?" He asked. She hadn't really told him what had happened.

"Just with goodbye." She sighed. "I love him, I truly do, but like a sister loves her baby brother. And, like a sister, seeing him suddenly grow up like that, the night he kissed me, it scared me. I shoved him away instead of trying to help him, to help me, understand. It was like he had aged six years in a second. And then, seeing him look so gaunt and sick and, and old, it broke my heart. And yet, I can still see the boy I knew behind it all. And I can also see the man who said he loved me. I was still frightened. And I knew I couldn't help him. You changed him too much Erik."

Erik felt guilty for a moment, but Elsie continued to speak. "I knew it was time for me to let that little boy go, so he could truly grow, find someone he really loved, but it was hard! It was damn hard! I nearly broke. But I knew I had to do it. I just wish there was some way I could have done it without breaking both of our hearts."

She sighed and leaned into him, snuggling into his chest. "He's afraid of you, and he was afraid for me. He thinks you're after me, and I knew I couldn't put those fears to rest without revealing that you're not really a ghost, but a wanted criminal. Hopefully he'll see I'm no target and leave me be, but it might take a while. Just try to lay low, for me, okay?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes and Erik knew he couldn't resist, no matter how much he wanted to finish off the idiot boy for breaking Elsie's heart again.

"Okay." He said, and pulled her to her feet. "Come now, dry those tears. It's still Christmas, after all."

She smiled at him, a watery smile, but a smile nonetheless. He smiled back and led her to the lift, signalling for Phantom to turn the wheel that would send it into the ground.

They sailed across the river and docked on the platform on the other side. Erik lifted Elsie out of the boat and set her down gently. She rolled her eyes at him

"I'm not delicate, you know." Erik shook his head. Her mood changed faster than the weather.

She walked over to the piano, smiling at the porcelain music box sitting on top of it. Erik was looking through the piles of sheet music strewn across the room. After a bit, he pulled out some papers and sat down at the piano bench, motioning for Elsie to sit next to him. She did so, and Erik turned to smile at her.

"I wrote this yesterday, after you left." He said, and turned back to the piano and beginning to play.

Elsie couldn't describe the feeling she had when Erik played his music. It felt as if she were flying, without ever leaving her seat. He didn't sing. The song did not need lyrics. Elsie could feel the emotion behind the notes; fear and anger, happiness and despair, a sense of belonging, love, they were all there, hidden in the notes he played.

When he finished, Elsie couldn't help but clap for him.

"That was amazing Erik!" She said happily. Erik smiled slightly at her before speaking.

'It's yours."

"What?" She was taken aback. The song was hers? What was he talking about?

"You didn't obviously think I'd allow you to get me something like that," He motioned to the music box. "And not get you anything in return? Look at the top." He shoved the papers into her hands, and Elsie saw, written at the top where the title should go, _For Elsie._

"You, you wrote this for me?" She asked, not daring to believe it.

"Yes, I did." He said. "Keep it. It's yours."

Elsie was stunned. 'Thank you Erik." She hugged him tightly, not wanting the happy feeling she had to go away. "You know, even with everything that's happened today, I still think this is one of my favourite Christmases."

Erik chuckled and pulled her closer. "I couldn't agree more."

* * *

><p><strong>Me: FLUFF! FLUFF! FLUFF!<br>****Erik: Now **_**I'm **_**getting cavities.  
><strong>**Me: I promise, this is the last Christmas chapter. The next one takes place after the New Year.  
><strong>**Elsie: Is that considered a spoiler?  
><strong>**Me: Don't know, don't care. Review!**


	13. An Old Face in a New Place

**Me: Hey people! We're Baa-aack!**  
><strong>Erik: Unfortunately.<strong>  
><strong>Me: Can someone get this guy a puppy? Like, seriously? <strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer: I OOOOONLY own 'Phantom of the Opera', inside my mind!<strong>

* * *

><p>Erik was watching the rehearsals for 'The White Rider' from the rafters. It was a very interesting story, though a bit like a fairy tale. It was about a knight, attempting to win the hand of a princess by completing near-impossible tasks set by her mother. When he almost loses hope, a mysterious man on a white horse appears and offers his assistance, as long as the knight pays him when he has won the princess's hand. The knight succeeds in his quest, and is allowed to marry the girl. But on the night before their wedding, the white rider appears again and reveals himself to be the devil in disguise, and demands payment in the knight's soul. The knight offers to fight the white rider, and if he wins, his soul will be free. They do battle, but the white rider is a skilled swordsman, and easily overtakes the knight. Right before the rider is about to kill him, the princess jumps in the way of the blade, giving her life to save the knights. The white rider takes the princess's soul, leaving the knight wondering if it was worth it at all to have even tried to gain her heart. A fairy story maybe, but a touching fairy story nonetheless.<p>

Of course, the opera having an upsetting ending didn't mean the cast hadn't had a bit of fun with it.

At one point, the robes of the white rider had been dyed pink, and another time the stage hands kept dropping ink pellets on the performers, until Carlotta lost it and tried to throw one of them off the balcony.

Elsie had also joined in the fun, and liked to wreak havoc with the horses' performances. Her favourite trick was tying a carrot to a string and pulling it across the stage, making the ponies the chorus rode chase it. Three people had been thrown from the ponies so far. She and some of the ballerinas also kept stealing costume pieces and tossing them out windows. (The funniest had to be when the knight had to go on without any pants.)

Erik really didn't have much to do. Andrews and Ronnette were much better managers than André and Firmin and had slightly restored his faith in humanity.

Andrews had a head for business, and saw fit to keep out of the way of the productions. Ronnette, on the other hand, was passionate about the arts and music, and directed all the productions himself. It had been him who had founded the 'Songbird' in the first place. Andrews had funded it, and had ended up partnering with Ronnette after the success of the first show. Ronnette was a wonderful caster. He had forgone their lead soprano, Sarah Bright, as the princess, and had instead cast the petite Annabel Schissel as the lead. Though shaky at first, she was well up to the challenge. Sarah led the chorus instead.

Carlotta had been cast as the princess's mother, a role which even Erik thought suited her and her voice well. The knight and white rider were played by Kurtis Courcy and Charles Hampton respectively.

Right now they were rehearsing the final scene, Kurtis looking rather annoyed at the fact that he wasn't wearing any shoes. The last song was a touching aria, and Kurtis sang it with ease.

"No, no. Kurtis, please remember, you just lost the love of your life. Try to look more anguished than annoyed."

"Well I would Ronnette, but SOMEONE," He looked directly at Elsie when he said this, "took my shoes."

"Well be glad it wasn't your pants again!" She yelled from her spot in the wings, and the ballerinas backstage started giggling.

Ronnette started massaging his head with his hand. "Let's just take it from the top again Maestro."

The song started again, and Kurtis began singing. He still looked a bit ticked off though. At the end of the song, Elsie began hooting and hollering wildly. Kurtis glared at her.

"I still hate you with every fibre of my being. I hope you know that."

Elsie laughed. "Oh, come on Kurtsie. You love me and you know it!"

"No, no I don't, actually."

"Alright you two, get out of here before you start killing each other. That includes the rest of you. Get the hell out of my theatre."

Everyone laughed, and started packing up. Elsie went off to put the horses back in the stables, and Erik slipped off to the Rat's Nest ahead of the others. He had been doing this for the past few months. He liked watching Elsie and the other rats in the bar. She looked happy, surrounded by these people, her family.

Elsie was honestly feeling a little blue. John was recovering, and back to work, but he still wasn't allowed out drinking late. And even though they had had a falling out, the rats were a family, and this family wasn't complete without John.

Elsie still tried to keep a smile on her face, which wasn't hard as she and Valerie Drum teased Kurtis about his shoes. He was not amused.

The night would have continued this way, having fun with her friends, then going back to the opera house to have another piano lesson with Erik. He had started teaching her after the New Year, and she was getting rather good too.

Everything would have gone according to plan, if the door hadn't opened a few seconds later.

Everyone's eyes immediately turned to the newcomer, their eyes raking over his neat clothes and ridiculous hair. Nobody noticed Elsie's look of suppressed rage. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact that the look was mimicked by everyone around her as the man sat down at the bar and ordered a drink.

"Excuse me," Jessa said, tapping the stranger on the shoulder. He turned to face her, and she looked about ready to explode as she said, "I was just wondering, who the hell do you think you are?"

The man chuckled and said, "Vicomte Raoul De Chagny. My wife and I are in town for a few weeks before we continue on to London. And you are?"

"Jessa Pettiford." She said gruffly. "And what do you think gives you the right to sit here?"

"It's a public bar?" Raoul said, turning back around and rapping the bar sharply. "Bartender, what's taking so long?"

Tom looked almost as angry as the other rats. "Hold your horses. It's coming."

Jessa still wasn't done with him. "I'm sorry, Mr. De Chagny, but I'm afraid this bar isn't as public as you thought it was."

"What are you talking about?"

A stage hand, by name of Noah Gelerter, downed the rest of his drink and grinned evilly at the . "It's rat-infested."

Raoul looked down in a panic and raised his feet. The people around him laughed.

"Not those kinds of rats." A dancer, Ted Farthing, gave the same evil grin as Noah. "We're the rats."

Raoul looked at him blankly. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes, buts that not the point." Patrick Judice, a stable hand, piped up from the far left. "We're called rats. Opera rats, and horse rats. It's an official title, and with the title comes the right to sit at the bar."

Another horse rat, Marguerite Jessel, spoke up from God-knows-where, there were so many people. "We get the bar and the front tables, townies sit in the middle, newcomers, or back-drinkers if you will, sit in the back. I think you fit into the third category."

Elsie had been watching this with her fists clenched. She had never met this man, and she still hated him. Then she remembered that Erik was still in the bar. She turned to glance at him, and saw his fists were also clenched, and he was visibly shaking. But Tom was talking now. She turned back to the bar, and saw him place an initiation in front of the blond man.

Raoul stared at the drink blankly, before looking back up at tom. "What is this thing?"

Tom chuckled. "It's an unwritten rule here that in order to be allowed to drink here, you have to down this."

Raoul shook his head. 'I'm not drinking this."

"Then get the hell out of my bar."

Raoul's eyes widened. "What? You can't be serious."

Tom simply smiled at him. "The initiation has been a tradition since I worked at angel haven and this bar was called The Drunken Toad. You either drink, or get out. Simple as that."

Raoul looked around, and saw that every eye in the bar was on him. He gulped, grabbed the drink, and swigged back half of it.

He promptly spit it up, then ran out of the pub. They could hear him retching from inside.

"And don't come back!" Jessa yelled, and the entire pub cheered. Elsie looked back to Erik, and saw his seat was empty. She scanned the room, and quickly spotted his black-cloaked figure near-sprinting to the door. She looked away quickly, waited a few moments, then stood up to leave.

"I should get back, I need a good night's sleep. 'Night Tom, rats." And she was out the door so fast, she didn't feel a pair of suspicious eyes on her back.

She ran across the road, ignoring a queasy looking Raoul walking up the street, and slipped into the passage on the side f the opera house. She flew through the tunnels, down the stairs, and nearly jumped off the lift halfway down.

She stood on the edge of the platform, screaming Erik's name. She kept hearing things breaking on the other side of the lake, but it didn't look like he was coming. But Elsie wasn't one to be easily deterred, so she jumped in the lake.

Luckily, it wasn't that deep; about shoulder height in the middle. She swam as fast as she could across the frigid lake, the sounds of papers ripping and things smashing becoming louder with every stroke. Finally, she reached the opposite bank, and the sight that met her was a frightful one.

Erik was grabbing whatever object was closest and throwing it at the walls, ripping up drawings and sheets of music, and Elsie could see from here he was crying.

"Erik!" She pulled herself out of the lake and put out her arms and moving forward cautiously, trying to calm him down. Apparently, it didn't work, as Erik swung an arm around to meet her and knocked her to the ground. As Elsie pulled herself up, she saw Erik's fingers close around a small blue object sitting on the piano…

"Erik, NO!" She yelled, trying to grab him arm, but he tossed the music box as hard as he could at the wall behind him, and it crashed into a million pieces.

Erik froze as soon as it hit the wall, staring at where it had made impact. He dropped to his knees, full-on sobbing. Everything he had tried to build, everything he had done for himself here, the walls he had built against his past, had all come crumbling down around him. Christine had returned. He didn't know for how long, he hadn't been paying attention, but she had returned. It felt as if his world, his life here, was ending. Even when he thought he could put the past behind him, it would always keep crawling back.

And now he had destroyed Elsie's gift, something she had had made just for him, a comfort for him, something that came from her heart, and he had destroyed it. He couldn't stop the tears from falling now. He felt as broken as that music box, shattered beyond all repair.

Elsie was near tears herself, watching the man she loved cry. She pulled him into her arms, letting his tears fall into her already-sopping-wet shoulder. She rubbed soothing circles into his back, and began to sing;

_Child of the wilderness,_  
><em>Born into emptiness.<em>  
><em>Learn to be lonely,<em>  
><em>learn to find your way in darkness.<em>

Erik had never heard Elsie sing before. The closest he had ever come to it was when she sang to her horse the first day he met her. Her voice was low and clear, and calmed him immensely.

_Who will be there for you?_  
><em>Comfort and care for you?<em>  
><em>Learn to be lonely.<em>  
><em>Learn to be your one companion.<em>

The words fit him, oddly. They near-perfectly described his life in Paris. Erik wondered where she had heard the song.

_Never dreamed, out in the world,_  
><em>there are arms to hold you.<em>  
><em>You've always known,<em>  
><em>your heart was on its own!<em>

Her voice swelled, and Erik felt his body relax into her side. He felt safe. It was the only way to describe the feeling.

_So laugh, in your loneliness._  
><em>Child of the wilderness,<em>  
><em>Learn to be lonely.<em>  
><em>Learn how to love,<em>  
><em>Life that is lived alone.<em>

Elsie sang with true emotion, trying her hardest to make the song a comforting thing, as her mother had done for her. She missed her mother. She wasn't even sure if she was still alive.

_Learn to be lonely._  
><em>Life can be lived,<em>  
><em>Life can be loved,<em>  
><em>alone.<em>

She let the last note trail off. Erik looked up at her and cracked a watery smile.

"You're a beautiful singer."

Elsie blushed slightly. "It's the only song I've ever really sang. My mother used to sing it to me when I was in a temper. I use it to calm Red down sometimes."

Erik hugged her, not caring that she was still soaked. Oh, wait…

"You're all wet." He said, pushing away and taking in her wet dress and hair.

"Obviously." She said, grinning. But Erik could see her starting to shiver.

"Hold on." He said, and he stood up and walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a blue dress.

"Thank you." She said, taking the dress and slipping into Erik's room to change. She came out shortly after, and looked at him funny.

"What is it?" He asked, confused.

"I was just wondering why you have a woman's dress down here."

Erik's face reddened. "Actually, I didn't. There's a passage down here that leads straight to where you keep the old props."

"The prop room?"

Erik smirked. "Very original."

Elsie rolled her eyes. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, we're not the best at coming up with original names." She laughed. "I better get back soon. It's late."

"Okay." Erik said, rather sadly. Elsie noticed.

"You don't have to be upset." She said, taking his hand. "The De Chagnys are only here for a few weeks before going to London. Erik felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders.

He rowed Elsie back across the lake, and walked her back to the passage that led outside. Elsie stopped right before leaving, took his face in her hands and kissed him.

"I love you Erik." She said, smiling as she broke the kiss.

"I love you too." He smiled as he held Elsie in his arms. "And nothing is going to change that."

They said a last goodbye and Elsie hurried outside. The moment the passage closed behind her however, the second unexpected thing of the night happened. A hand grabbed her arm roughly, swinging her around. Elsie yelped, twisted her head to face her attacker, and came face-to-face with…

"Carlotta?"

* * *

><p><strong>Me: DA, da, DAAAAAAA!<strong>  
><strong>Erik: Was that really necessary?<strong>  
><strong>Me: Yes. Yes it was.<strong>  
><strong>Elsie: What will happen next? Review to find out!<strong>


	14. Caught

**Me: REJOICE, FOR THE CLIFFHANGER IS TO BE RESOLVED!****  
><strong>**Erik: You get hyper when you're tired.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Please go to bed after you upload this.****  
><strong>**Me: Maybe. By the way, this chapter is dedicated to Foxcat93, whose reviews have helped shape this story, and practically wrote this chapter.  
>Erik: She knows things about this story that no one else will ever know.<br>Elsie: Be jealous. Foxcat93, you are amazing!**

**Disclaimer: I own 'Phantom of the Opera'! NOT! No, I don't. I wish I did, but I don't. So stop reading this disclaimer and go read the chapter!**

* * *

><p>"Carlotta?"<p>

There she stood, her shawl falling from her shoulders, her normally perfect red hair flying from its curls, unshed tears in her eyes, clutching Elsie's shoulder in a death grip.

"You…you are helping him, aren't you?" She said, her voice cracking.

"Carlotta, what are you talking abo-"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!" She screamed, shoving Elsie back onto the muddy road. "You've been helping him!"

Elsie looked up at her with wide eyes. Did Carlotta know? _Well, she obviously knows something. _A small voice in her head chided. Elsie chose to ignore it.

"Helping who?"

"The phantom!" Carlotta shrieked. "But not just any phantom, no. MY Phantom! The monster that killed my Ubaldo!"

_She's hit the nail on the head._ The voice in Elsie's mind said. Elsie was too shocked to listen to it.

"I thought it was suspicious." Carlotta said, pacing up and down in front of Elsie. "The letters, the salary, the saved seat. But I ignored it. I ignored it all because I was so desperate to start over. Giry knew something! And now, so do you!" She stopped her pacing and turned to face the woman on the ground.

"Do you know what he's done?" Carlotta yelled. Elsie was surprised no one heard, but everyone was probably still at the Rat's Nest. "Do you know who he's killed? Or has he not told you that?" Her voice turned to venom as she spat out her words. "Has he kept that part of his past quiet from you? Did he decide not to tell you about that piccolo cagna di una ballerina di fila? Or what about the stagehand? The fire? My _husband?_"

Elsie looked blankly at her. Carlotta was towering over her, her lips pulled back in a snarl, but her eyes were brimming with tears. Elsie tried to say something, but Carlotta began pacing again and talking so low Elsie had to strain to hear her.

"I thought something was up when the first letter came, and that back drinker, always leaving right after you. But I could explain those away, for the sake of getting over Paris, I could explain it away. But then John was strangled, and you start disappearing after rehearsals for hours on end, and now Raoul, of all people, shows up and you look ready to kill. And then your little back drinker runs out, and you go tearing out after him. And the everything clicked."

Carlotta turned again and glared at Elsie. She had never seemed so angry, so sad, and so broken before. Tears were flowing freely down her eyes now, and though her tone had calmed, she still seemed ready to explode at her any second.

"He is the Opera Ghost, isn't he?"

Elsie looked down at her knees. It would be too cruel to lie to her. She had been caught, and she couldn't keep up the charade any longer.

"Yes, he is."

Carlotta let out a strangled gasp, clutching her heart as she started to sob. She fell to her knees as a choked scream left her lips. Elsie was frozen to the spot. Carlotta looked up at her with red rimmed eyes, and Elsie saw that their fire had gone out. She looked dead.

"But, Elsie." She whispered. "Why?"

Elsie smiled a watery smile. "Because I love him."

Carlotta looked shocked, but remained silent. So Elsie continued. "He told me everything. His past, Christine, even about you Carlotta, and I didn't run screaming. I saw his face and I still stayed. I understood." She remembered that night, and how drunk they had gotten afterwards. The faint recollections still made her smile

"He tried to kill John because he kissed me. He's a jealous person. After I heard, I went to confront him, but he ended up kissing me." She chuckled. It all seemed so simple when she said it like that.

"I love him Carlotta. More than anything. He is a murderer, a thief, and a blackmailer. But he is also my protector, my music teacher, the bane of my existence, the best thing in my life, and my friend. I love him."

Carlotta looked stunned. Elsie was just praying she could see things her way.

"Please Carlotta, you cannot tell anyone. He came here to start over, same as you did. He wants to put everything that happened in Paris behind him. If you tell anyone, he'll be forced to leave, start over somewhere else. And I'd lose him, because I can't leave here. My entire life is here, and if Erik left, a part of my life that I can't live without would just be, gone."

Elsie finished, tears pricking her eyes as she realized something. For all her life, she'd been independent. She had never needed a man around, and now…

_You need him. _The voice in her head said softly. _You need Erik. _

"Okay."

Elsie almost missed the quiet voice as she listened to her own thoughts. Her head snapped up as she looked at Carlotta, who was looking at her sadly.

"What?"

"I said, okay." Carlotta said. "I won't tell. As long as he keeps quiet, so will I."

"Oh, Carlotta." Elsie said, hugging the redhead tightly. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"I do." Carlotta whispered, hugging her back. "You love him, just the same as I loved Ubaldo. I'm not going to take that love from you Elsie, even if it is with the person who took my love from me." She pulled away, and looked into Elsie's eyes. "We can't choose love. I learned that the hard way."

Elsie smiled and stood up, helping Carlotta to her feet as well. The two women walked out from the alley arm-in-arm, a new understanding between them.

_She's right you know. _The voice said. _You can't choose love._

And for once, Elsie agreed with it.

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

Elsie woke up early the next day and rode down to the opera house before the sun had even begun to rise. She left Red in the entrance of the passage and rushed down to see Erik. When she reached the bottom of the spiral staircase she saw Erik was brushing Phantom. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps and grinned, abandoning the task and walking over to envelop Elsie in a hug.

"What brings you here so early?" He asked, pushing her away slightly so he could look her in the eye

Elsie sighed. "Erik, I have to tell you something."

Erik frowned. "What is it?"

"Carlotta found out. About you."

Erik's eyes widened. "What?"

"She pieced it together. She caught me last night."

Erik's jaw dropped slightly, his eyes as wide a dinner plates. He got over it soon, and turned away, muttering about taking care of the problem.

"Erik, wait." Elsie said. "She promised to keep her yap shut."

Erik turned back. "Really?"

"Yes really." She said. "As long as you keep quiet, she will too."

"What do you mean, 'keep quiet'?"

"She means no funny business." Elsie said. "She doesn't want a repeat of Paris."

"Neither do I." Erik grumbled, his face darkening.

"I know. But she doesn't know you like I do. If there's the slightest whisper of trouble, she'll go to the police. And this time, it won't just be you going to jail. It'll be me too."

"I know." Erik said. "I know that already Elsie."

"Then you'll understand when I say that I think you shouldn't go to the Rat's Nest anymore."

Erik nodded. "They've seen me. The horse rats have, at least. If Carlotta can put it together, one of them will do it again soon."

Elsie nodded back. "And when John comes back, if he sees you…"

"I understand." Erik said. He walked back over to Elsie and hugged her again. Elsie stood tall and kissed him sweetly. When they broke apart, there was a silent understanding between them.

They had been caught. The danger of Erik and Elsie being brought to justice was now very real. They would have to watch their steps, and cover their track carefully. But somehow, it didn't matter. They had each other, and as long as that was true they would be okay.

"I've got Red here." Elsie said, cracking a smile. "Want to saddle up Phantom and go riding?"

"Is that your idea of staying low?" Erik smirked and Elsie laughed.

"There's always the forest. I've been riding out there loads of times. I'd say it's two hours until dawn. No one would see us. Especially you, with you fixation with black clothes."

"How is one supposed to be a phantom if one stands out?" Erik said, waving his hand as he walked over to Phantom's stall.

"One question; how are we supposed to get him out of here?" Elsie asked. "He can't go up the stairs."

"You underestimate me ma chére. Erik said, leading his horse to a wall covered by red cloth. He moved the cloth and pressed on one of the bricks. The wall swung back, revealing a passage.

"Wow." Elsie breathed as she followed Erik inside. "This place has more secrets than I thought."

"Too true." Erik said. "I think I've found most of the passages, and they all seem to converge on the old gear room."

Erik led Phantom down the passages, Elsie by his side. After a few minutes, they came to a wooden stretch of wall. Erik pushed on it and it swung up, showing Red waiting patiently for his mistress.

"Well, that was unexpected." Elsie said.

"I'm lucky I found this one." Erik said happily. "Phantom was going stir-crazy before I did."

Elsie opened the passage and pulled herself on her horse. The two slipped out into the night, riding down the alley and moving swiftly toward the forest. As they rode through the trees, Erik following closely behind Elsie to avoid crashing into a tree, Elsie knew she couldn't live without these moments.

_My dear, you're turning into one of those hopeless romantics._

"Oh shut up." She muttered at the voice, but she couldn't help but smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Me: AWWWW!<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: You should go see someone for that voice in your head.****  
><strong>**Elsie: And you shouldn't?****  
><strong>**Erik: I had a tortured childhood, the voices in my head are justified.****  
><strong>**Me: On screen, they're the perfect couple. Off screen, they're this.****  
><strong>**Elsie: My voice is my snarky conscience! Your voices are evil!****  
><strong>**Erik: So now you're calling me evil?  
>Elsie: No, I'm calling your voices evil. You are an all-around good person.<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: You insult the voices, you insult me.****  
><strong>**Me: *Sigh* For those of you wondering, '****piccolo cagna di una ballerina di fila' means 'little bitch of a chorus girl', obviously referring to Christine.  
>Elsie: You see? That's why I like her!<br>Me: 'Ma chére' means 'my dear'. If I got it wrong, blame Google translate. Don't forget to review!  
>Erik: Every time you do, we shave off a hunk of Raoul's hair!<br>Raoul: *Tied to a chair* No! Please! Anything but that!  
>Me: SILENCE!<br>Raoul: Okay.**


	15. A Plan in the Making

**Me: Hey people! Sorry it took so long to update! I've had a major bout of writer's block with this story.****  
><strong>**Erik: But we're back! With a new chapter!****  
><strong>**Elsie: So kick back and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Phantom of the Opera'. If I did, there would be a distinct lack of curly-haired fops. (No, seriously. Watch the 2004 movie. The ends of his hair are curled in his first scene. It's hilarious!)**

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><p>"Everyone, I have exciting news!" Andrews yelled from the stage. Heads turned towards the manager as he cleared his throat. "Thank you. Now, we have some great news! We have a famous opera singer, all the way from France, here to see our opera house. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Christine Daaé!<p>

Scattered applause rang through the opera house. The brunette woman standing next to Andrews smiled and shook her head.

"It's de Chagny now, but thank you Monsieur Andrews."

Elsie had to work hard to stop herself from walking up to the stage and punching her. This was the reason she didn't act. She couldn't keep a straight face to save her life.

She yawned and went back to brushing a horse. Between the opera, her ranch, the nightly visits to The Rat's Nest, and visiting Erik afterwards, she hadn't been getting much sleep. An hour or so at most. Some nights she didn't sleep at all. But still she put a smile on her face and went about her duties as usual. She was Elsie Gredger for God's sake, she didn't back down from anything. Even if she got a little tired.

She yawned again before putting the brush away. The day of the opera was fast approaching. It was actually scheduled to premiere on her birthday at the end of March. She would be turning thirty. She honestly couldn't believe she had survived thus far. "_I guess mother was right."_ She thought, smiling. "_It's not good will or kindness that keeps you alive, its instinct and a way to keep money in your pocket. It's why sinners like us still walk." _Not one of her more memorable sayings, but one that had stuck with her nonetheless.

Elsie sighed. She didn't know why, but her thought always turned to her mother around her birthday. Maybe it was because she missed her. She didn't even know if her parents were alive anymore. The circus she had grown up in had never returned to Baisly.

"_God, is Andrews still talking?"_ She thought to herself as she turned back towards the stage. Sure enough, the windbag of a manager was still going on about something-or-other.

"Oi, how much longer is this going to be? I need to be home by midnight." One of the ballerinas yelled from backstage. Everyone laughed, and Andrews finally shut up and let them get on with rehearsals.

The opera was coming along swimmingly. Elsie had finally managed to get the ponies to obey their riders, and had trained the horses to react to only a slight pull of the reins. The only reason she was still there was to avert any crisis's that may occur.

Christine seemed to be there only to observe. She was sitting in the audience, watching as Carlotta sang of how only one who could complete her challenges would be worthy of her daughter. Elsie watched Christine watching Carlotta. She was extremely pretty, with long brown curls and an innocent face. She could see why Erik had fallen for her.

"Okay, wonderful job Carlotta! Let's move on to the end scene. Kurtis, do you have all your costume pieces this time?" Ronnette called from the audience.

"Yes." Kurtis yelled back, glaring at Elsie as he rode out on stage. Charles Hampton, the White Rider, followed him on his horse. Kurtis and Charles took their places for the final battle, half of which took place on horseback, and the other half on foot. The music began and the two men drew their swords, preparing for battle.

Elsie paid little attention to the fight. This was the scene she had worked the hardest on with the horses, and there was really no reason to worry about it. Dazzle and Monty knew this scene by heart. If anyone was going to screw it up, it would be the humans.

Elsie turned her attention back to the audience, but was surprised to find that Christine had vanished. She looked around the room and caught a glimpse of someone slipping out the back. _"Now where's she going?"_

Elsie slipped away from her spot, stopping only to put Lynelle Trisch, a horse rat she had brought with her to help with the horses, in charge before heading towards the large hallway near the back. Sure enough, she found Christine there, wandering down the hall looking a bit lost.

"Need a hand?" Elsie asked. Christine must not have seen her, because she jumped about three feet in the air.

"Goodness, you startled me." Christine said while attempting to catch her breath. Elsie simply chuckled.

"So, what brings you back here?"

Christine shuffled her feet. "I was just looking around. The opera is coming together nicely then?"

"Yes." Elsie couldn't help but be a bit proud when she said this. "Everyone is giving it there all. If we can pull this off, we'll be the first opera company to perform the show with no disasters."

'Really?" Christine asked, cocking her head to the side. She looked innocent, but Elsie could have sworn she saw something, just in the back of her eyes, that suggested otherwise.

"Yes." She answered. "London had a rampaging stallion a few years back, a traveling opera company had a man be bucked off into the orchestra pit, and I think Paris tried to pull it off quite a few years ago, and a man was nearly killed when he tried to save a ballerina from a spooked horse. I don't think that show was ever performed there."

"No, it wasn't." Christine smiled slightly as she said this. "Lefevre said the show was jinxed."

"You were there?"

"Yes actually. I was around eleven." She sighed. "It seems so long ago." She turned back to the wall she had been examining. It clicked in Elsie's mind that this was the wall that opened to the passage to Erik's home. She made a mental note not to let her get too close.

"Memories often seem that way." She smirked and walked past the singer. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" Christine asked, looking confused.

"What brought you to Baisly, nearly a year after you left Paris?"

Christine's eyebrows rose. "How do you know when I left Paris?"

"News travels fast Mrs. de Chagny. Even faster when you're famous." This, of course, was a lie. She knew because of Erik. But it was a convincing lie._ "Maybe I should have been an actress._"

"Well…I…" Christine stammered, then looked pleadingly at Elsie. "Can you keep a secret?"

To Elsie, the request sounded childish. But she nodded nonetheless and Christine continued.

"I've been having nightmares. Always the same ones. Did you, happen to hear about, the opera ghost at the Populairé?"

She said the last part as rushed as possible, but Elsie could still make out the words. Her eyes widened, but again she nodded. "We have Carlotta here. There's no way we could not have heard."

Christine looked back down the hall before she spoke again, as if looking for eavesdroppers. "I've had dreams, a voice, of the phantom calling my name. I've had nightmares of him coming for me, murdering my husband, and then the dream turns around and I see my angel being shot by police. I've tried everything to stop the dreams, but nothing would work. So I knew, I had to find him again. I had to close that chapter of my life once and for all."

Elsie was in shock. She was looking for him! But for what? She had said she needed to close that chapter on her life. And then it clicked.

Elsie had closed a chapter on her life, one with happy memories of friendship, when she had said goodbye to John in the street. She had broken his heart. Christine was looking for Erik so she could do the same and move on. _"Stay calm Elsie, stay innocent."_

"So why did you come here?" Elsie asked, trying to seem completely inconspicuous. It apparently worked, for Christine continued without questioning her.

"I have heard rumours, rumours of a ghost here. Are they true?"

Elsie stiffened. "Yes. But I'm afraid your search may have been in vain. Ours is a real ghost. You can ask anyone here. They'll give you the full story." She began to walk away, but Christine called after her;

"He delivers notes."

Elsie froze. "What?"

"He, your ghost, I've heard he delivers notes through you." Christine said. She took a few strides to reach Elsie and walked around to face her. 'You are his messenger as Madame Giry was his messenger. Please, you must know something!"

Elsie's face darkened and she glared at the girl. Christine shrunk back considerably.

"I know nothing."

Christine's face fell. She began to walk away, but Elsie called back;

"Nothing but this."

Christine turned again, looking hopeful. Her hope was short-lived with the next word from Elsie's mouth.

"He doesn't want to be found. Least of all by you."

Elsie walked away, leaving Christine standing in the empty hall.

What had she been thinking? She had just pretty much told Christine that Erik was here! "_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" _Her inner voice yelled at her while whacking her brain with a wooden board. She needed a drink, fast.

"Elsie!" A voice behind her shouted. _"Oh no. Not now!"_

But sure enough, when she turned she saw John, looking much healthier than they had last time they had spoken. He smiled brightly at her, but she could only muster a half-hearted smile in return.

"Hello John." Elsie said. "What are you doing here? I thought you were working at the stable today."

"I was." John said, smirking slightly. "But you left this in the barn." He held out her old burlap bag.

"I had wondered where that went!" Elsie said happily, managing a real smile this time. She took the bag and grinned at John. "Thank you John."

"My pleasure." John said, giving a small bow which made Elsie giggle. Now this was the John she knew and loved. The funny, joking John who would do anything for a laugh.

"Thanks again John." She said. "I really needed this."

"Why?"

"Because," She said, pulling a small flask out of her bag and taking a swig. "I really needed a drink."

John laughed. "Why do you always have to have alcohol?"

"Because without it, I'd start banging my head against walls from having to deal with this level of crazy." She grinned and took another swig before stuffing the flask back in her bag.

"Well I don't think its working." John laughed. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. "I best be off. I left Collin in charge."

Elsie smacked him upside the head. "What on earth made you do that? Collin's dead clumsy and you know it! My ranch is probably burned to the ground by now!"

"Sorry." John mumbled while rubbing his head. "I'll be off then." He turned and started heading for the door. _"Now or never girlie."_

"John!" She yelled, running to catch up with him. He turned to face her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." Elsie said. "For everything."

John gave a small smile. "Me too." He turned again and walked out. Elsie allowed herself a grin. Things would never be the same between them, but they were getting better.

"Voi stadio mano idiota! Quando mi mettere le mani su di te farò strappare il tuo cuore attraverso il culo! Tornate qui!" A screaming, dripping wet Carlotta interrupted her thoughts as she ran by chasing Noah Gelerter, who was giggling like a kid on Christmas.

"Elsie?" Hortense Rebick, a dancer, asked. "Why are you banging your head against the wall?"

"Because I don't have enough alcohol to deal with this level of crazy."

*POTO*POTO*POTO*

John rode up to the secluded manor. The old Grisslum place hadn't been lived in in years, but apparently the de Chagny's thought it suited their needs. He hoped off his horse and strode up the walk. His knock on the door was answered almost instantly by a brown-haired girl with large brown eyes.

"Madame de Chagny." John nodded his head at the girl. She looked barely older that his sister Grace.

"Monsieur Flemings." Christine opened the door wider and allowed him into the house. "My husband is in the study upstairs."

"Thank you." He said, and headed for the stairs. A few moments later, Raoul heard a knock on the study door.

"Who is it?" He called.

"John Flemings, sir." Came from the other side of the door. Raoul smiled.

"Come in, come in, have a seat." The boy did so.

"I believe we have business to discuss." It wasn't a question.

"I believe we do." Raoul answered the boy. He could only about twenty or so, but for some reason he looked much older. "You say you have information for my wife's, er, cause?"

"I do." John stated. "Your wife is looking for the Paris opera ghost."

"She wants to finally put the past to rest, and she believes she cannot do so without seeing that thing one last time." Raoul practically spat the word 'thing' as if it left a fowl taste in his mouth. John knew how he felt.

"I can help you."

"How?" Raoul said sceptically. "We've been searching for almost a year now. We have yet to find him. How can you, a child from a small town, possibly help?"

"He's here." John said simply.

"…What?" Raoul was almost too stunned for words.

"He's here. Hiding in the Songbird. He attacked me a few months ago, nearly strangled me to death. I will never forget that voice…" He trailed off, and Raoul leaned closer, eager for more information.

"How do you know? How do you know for sure it is him?"

"I've done my research." John said. "The letters, the money, the cases are too eerily similar to be a coincidence. The others may be soothed by old ghost stories, but I know better now. We have the same ghost."

Raoul leaned back. He was impressed. "This is wonderful! With luck, my wife and I will be out of here by next week, and we can put the entire incident behind us. We can finally start over."

John sat a little straighter. "There's just one thing."

"What?" Raoul asked. He knew there would be a catch!

John sighed softly. "He's after Elsie. He told me to stay away from her. I need to make sure she's safe."

Raoul sat there confusedly for a moment before regaining his composure. "And here is where we hit a snag."

It was John's turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"

"My Christine has _done_ some research too." Raoul said. "She talked with this girl, Elsie, and she said she told her that the phantom did not want to be found. I say, she's in league with him. She may even be hiding him."

"That's a lie!" John yelled, leaping from his seat so quickly the chair fell over.

"I'm afraid not." Raoul said, shaking his head a little. "So now I have a proposition for you."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we let my wife have her talk with her _angel_," Raoul smirked, "and then put him down like the dog he is. He disappears, my wife knows nothing, and your Elsie will be free of his mind games forever. How does that sound?"

John stood there for a second before grinning himself. "I like the way you thing Mr. de Chagny."

"So is it a deal?" Raoul said, putting out his hand. John grasped it and shook it once.

"Deal."

* * *

><p><strong>Me: Le gasp! The suspense!<strong>**  
><strong>**Erik: Megan, do everyone a favour, and shut up!****  
><strong>**Me: *Pouts*****  
><strong>**Elsie: While those two argue, I'm gonna tell everyone about something! I have recently been drafted into a trio of assassins. And who do we assassinate? MARY SUES!****  
><strong>**Me: It's a Harry Potter story by Kuro R. Skellenhive, called 'The Sue Slayer Chronicles: Episode 1Hogwarts Sues'.****  
><strong>**Erik: Rated M for violence.****  
><strong>**Me: I'm thinking of trying to get her to bring the rating down a tad. But until then, just go check it out!****  
><strong>**Elsie: It features me killing some notorious Mary Sues!****  
><strong>**Me: And you can suggest what other Sues, from any fandom, you'd like them to destroy!****  
><strong>**Erik: Is that is?****  
><strong>**Me: I think so. No, wait! Here's a fun challenge; the first person who can tell me what Carlotta was screaming at Noah when he dumped water on her gets a cameo in the next chapter, either as a character or in the author's note!****  
><strong>**Erik: Are you done now?****  
><strong>**Me: Yup.****  
><strong>**Elsie: Now, REVIEW!****  
><strong>**Erik: Or we'll set the bouncing walrus on you!****  
><strong>**Me: You heard the man! **


	16. Another Point of View

**I am so sorry this chapter is so late! I've been having major writers block with this story. By the way, the winner of the 'Guess what Carlotta said' contest, and the cameo, was shadowxwitch! Unfortunately, the review was submitted anonymously. Shadowxwitch, I'll give you one week to get me details of how you want your cameo to go. If I don't hear from you, the cameo will go to the runner up. Okay, enough chit-chat, onto the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned POTO, you wouldn't be reading this because I'd be too busy raking in the dough to write phanfiction.**

* * *

><p>If anything could be said about Raoul, it was that he always had the best of intentions.<p>

Even as a child, he always wanted to do right by others, even if his attempts ended in disaster. (The kitchen in his childhood home still had scorch marks from the time he had tried to cook when their regular cook had fallen ill.)

Of course, all his attempts to do right hadn't been catastrophes. The day he had rescued the scarf of the pretty brunette from the ocean was a perfect example.

When, a few months after their marriage, Christine had expressed the desire to see the phantom one last time, he had initially refused. Seeing that thing again would do her no good. Then she had described the nightmares. Described just how strong a hold it had on her.

"He hasn't let me go. Not yet." She had said, in an attempt to plead Raoul to look for it. "I need to see him, to speak to him one last time. I need him to truly set me free."

Raoul had been about to refuse again, but then it dawned on him; they would never be free unless that thing was dead. Christine, his beautiful Christine, would be haunted forever by the mere thought of it. But, if he agreed to Christine's request, he could kill two birds with one stone. Christine could get her final goodbyes, and Raoul could rid the Earth of that terrible creature once and for all.

So he agreed. The very next day he took up the task of tracking down the phantom.

It was a long, hard search, and at first it yielded little results. After four months of fruitless searching he had nearly given up. Then, by a stroke of pure luck, he met a young sailor in the street. It was a chance meeting, really. The boy had a small stand set up, and was selling trinkets of his travels abroad. Raoul was looking at a beaded necklace for Christine when his eyes had passed over a drawing amongst the junk. Now, Raoul was no expert in art, but he could recognise a face on paper. It was Christine. He demanded to know where the boy had gotten the drawing.

"Honest sir, is not mine." He had babbled. "I be findin' it on a barge I worked on. Jus' lyin' there, on the floor in the hold. No one wanted it, so I took it sir. Isn't it pretty sir? I'm sellin' it, sir, for a steal, I am! Five francs!"

Raoul bought the picture, and inquired about the barge he had found it in. The boy said it was called _Queen Anne's Salvation._ He contacted the captain at once, and learned that the boat had sailed for six months before landing in a town called Baisly. After they had left port, the boy had found the painting in the cargo hold and had tried to pawn it off onto every soul on board, but had failed spectacularly.

Raoul had told Christine that night, and presented the picture as proof. Christine recognized it as one she had seen in the phantom's lair. The pair had packed their bags and arranged a ship to Baisly as soon as they possibly could.

To say Christine was nervous about seeking out the phantom was an understatement. Most nights she would keep Raoul up with her constant fears and worries. Raoul would stay up and listen, offering comfort as best he could. If everything went according to plan, Christine's worries would be far behind her in no time.

During the day, Christine was always friendly and polite to the crew. She said they told the most amusing stories. Raoul didn't trust a few of them. He started trusting them even less halfway through their trip, when Christine confided in him that she believed herself to be pregnant with his child. He rarely let Christine leave her room after that. None of those brutes were going to lay a finger on Christine, or his future child.

They docked in Baisly sometime in March. Raoul had sent a message ahead to a friend nearby to ask that a place be found for them to say. An old manor had been found and restored, so it was suitable for him and his wife to live in.

Raoul bade Christine to rest for the first few days. If her estimations were correct, she was already four months pregnant. Raoul rarely wanted to leave her side, but she encouraged him to go out and see what the town had to offer. This advice would make for fifteen years worth of guilt traps.

He had made his way to a local bar, and had decided to stop in for a quick drink. Once there, he had decided never to return again. The locals were positively hostile! And that drink! He had never been one to hold his liquor well, but that one was so disgusting it sent him flying out of that bar and somewhere where he could get it out of his stomach. He had returned home with a promise to himself and Christine that their stay would be brief.

The next day Christine went to the opera house, and had returned full of stories of a woman named Elsie, who knew where the phantom was. Raoul remembered seeing someone at the bar who matched the description Christine gave of a woman with red hair and blue eyes. The woman behind the hag who had heckled him was the only woman with red hair at the bar. That must have been her.

Raoul didn't know how, but word of his true reason for coming to town had gotten out. He had received a message from someone named John, who said he had knowledge about the phantom. Raoul had invited him over to discuss it. The news he got was sure to close the search. This man knew where the monster was hidden, and Christine knew who was hiding it. But that who was where the problem lay.

Raoul watched John's eyes as he spoke of Elsie. He saw something flicker, just near the back at the sound of her name. He recognised that flicker. He saw it in himself every time he looked in the mirror and a thought of Christine popped into his head. John loved this Elsie like he loved Christine. But from what Christine had told him, Elsie was in league with the phantom. Of course, no self-respecting person would help it willingly. Elsie must have been drawn in as Christine had, by the pull of it's music.

So Raoul had agreed to help John if John helped him. They would track down the phantom, let Christine talk to it, then they would kill it. Both girls would be free, and Raoul could take his wife back to Paris, where they belonged.

That morning, Raoul was sitting at the table, enjoying his breakfast while Christine waltzed alone around the room to a melody only she could hear. Raoul chuckled at his wife's antics before standing up and taking her in his arms, spinning her around the room.

"Raoul, what are you doing?" Christine asked as they danced.

"No lady should have to dance alone." Raoul answered, and Christine laughed.

"Do you know what this reminds me of?" Christine said as their dance slowed to a sway.

"What?"

"The party your parents threw for our engagement." Christine looked up at him and smiled. "Remember? Your niece and nephew got into the wine and were sick half the night."

"Philippe was never good at keeping an eye on children." Raoul laughed. "When we were children we would play hide and seek, and he would forget about me."

Christine laughed again. Her laugh was so high and sweet, like a little bird singing on the breeze. "Was it Alain or Alaina who swore at your grandmother?"

"Alaina. Shocked me as much as anybody." Raoul said, and Christine laughed again.

"Just think of the mischief our little one will get up too, with those two around to guide him or her." Christine took her hands from Raoul's shoulders and placed them on her belly, which was just a little larger, as she had decided to forgo her corsets while she was pregnant.

"I know. Can we ban Philippe from bringing his children to our house?"

Christine smacked his arm. 'We'll do no such thing! Alain and Alaina are perfectly sweet children."

"When they're not chewing the table legs" Raoul finished. He took Christine's hands again. "It doesn't matter anyways. Our child will be as sweet and gentle as you. No amount of exposure to the twin terrors will change that."

Christine smiled and kissed him. "I love you Raoul."

"I love you too Christine." Raoul held her close. He wanted to protect her. Getting rid of that demon under the opera house was the only way he could. "I always have, and I always will."

Christine nuzzled her head against his chest. "I feel the same Raoul."

They stayed like that for a moment, perfectly content to stay in each other's arms. But the old grandfather clock in the living room decided to interrupt their perfect moment.

"Is it that time already?" Christine said as the clock chimed eight. "I promised Andrews I'd help the singers with their technique. Did you know Carlotta works there now?

"Really? I had no idea."

Christine nodded. "It's true. This is bound to be interesting."

"I'm sure you will do fine." Raoul said and kissed her on the forehead. "Be careful, okay?

"I will. Don't worry." Christine said as she pulled on her coat and hurried out the door.

Raoul watched her leave, smiling at the place where she had stood before shutting the door. Soon everyday could be like this, just the two of them, with no worries or fears.

As soon as the phantom was dead.

Yes, it could never be said that Raoul didn't have the best of intentions.

Even if his actions weren't always the best.

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><p><strong>Me: This Raoul-centric chapter was brought to you by my absolute disgust that LND made Raoul a drunk wife-abuser.<strong>

**Erik: I hate the guy, and even I know he'd never hurt Christine.**

**Me: That show is a cash cow with great music. So I wrote this to show what Raoul and Christine's marriage would probably actually be like, only having it tie into the plot!**

**Elsie: Congrats. Did anyone else see the mention of Philippe but me?**

**Me: I found him in backstoryland!**

**Erik: It's a weird place.**

**Me: You're telling me. Don't forget to review!**


	17. The End

I'm sorry to say I shall not be continuing this story.

The fact is, I have gone off my planned trail here, and have no idea how to get back on.

I love all of you for reviewing so faithfully, but I no longer enjoy my characters here, or the plotline, which has been so predictable I'm surprised no one has called me out on it.

Thank you again for supporting me, but I just can't do it anymore.

The story will remain up as a reminder of my first attempt at writing, and for anyone who would like to adopt it.

Less-than-three, Megan


End file.
